J'Asha
by meghanandchristine
Summary: A story of adventure, drama and romance written from the alternating viewpoints of Ashira, a female Khajiit, and J'Rakha, a male Khajiit.
1. Ashira's First Mission

Ashira's First Mission

"A city fee is required to enter Riften, khajiit", the guard spat at me. My eye twitched slightly and I closed the distance between us, staring intently.

"Don't lie to me. I know this is a sham against new visitors. Let me in or I swear I'll-"

"All right, all right", the guard mumbled, shushing me and turning around to unlock the city. "Keep your voice down. I may not have been able to get any coin out of you, but perhaps from the next unlucky newcomer." I simply glared at him, not wanting to cause any more trouble. The doors to the city swung open and the smell of water wafted into my nose. I walked in with head held high and my tail whipping back and forth in a somewhat carefree manner. I'd only recently been released from Elsweyr and my mother's care, graduated the Bard's College and now I was ready to become my own Khajiit. I'd been gone from the Motherland for about two years now. I'd travelled from Morthal to Whiterun, but never to the southeast that was Riften. I walked out of Whiterun and up to the local carriage, paid twenty gold septims and here I was. The reason wasn't known to me nor did it matter. Perhaps it was the desire to see the Temple of Mara for myself; or to purchase some of the finer weapons of Skyrim. The smith here in the city was claimed to be one of the greatest and I simply wasn't going to pass up a fine weapon. My own iron sword was beginning to look a little frail and it was time for a new blade.

I walked straight ahead and a swinging, wooden sign loomed into view. It read the Bee and Barb; the local inn I guessed. I pressed forward and noticed a large, rounded area in the center of the city and to the right, the local blacksmith. I turned my attention toward it, but the smith was nowhere to be seen. Even the stands in the rounded area were unoccupied. Perhaps it was too early for business. No, it was definitely too early for business. It was just shy of six in the morning. The only place open was the Bee and Barb and I decided to wait around inside until the local shops began to open. I pushed my way past the wooden doors and examined the room. Instantly, music drifted to my ears and a smile spread across my face. A familiar tune. To my left was a staircase that led up to the second floor, most likely containing rooms for visitors to dwell in. A couple of tables were set up along the wall and an Argonian woman stood behind the counter, scrubbing it harshly with a damp rag. I hummed along to the bard's playing and took a seat at the bar.

"Good morning traveller. I'm Keerava, Would you like to rent a room? Perhaps a tankard of the famous Black Briar Mead?" She said. Her voice was scratchy and foreign. I'd never seen an Argonian up close. Not many reside in Whiterun, which was where I normally stayed. A room at the Bannered Mare seemed to be permanently rented to me.

"A room would be fine", I smiled at her.

"You're Khajiit. Don't see many of you folk around here anymore. To be honest, I don't believe all that schmuck that's been floatin' around about you're kind", she winked at me. I handed her ten gold septims. Now I was down to twenty-three coins. "I'll take you to your room then." The "schmuck" that was circulating through all of the holds of Skyrim was the general stereotype that all Khajiits were pickpockets; ruthless thieves. I fell under this category. I'd stolen from several of the rooms in the Bannered Mare, but just enough to get by and never enough to hurt a man's well being. I did it for the good of myself, not out of greed. I'd been taught as a cub to be smart and well aware of my surroundings, pickpocket with stealthy fingers and never to be seen unless I wanted to be. I was told I was born to be a thief and I'd come to accept that over the years. It wasn't right, but it was a way of life. Especially for me.

I received the worst of this racial slander in Solitude. All of the rich, good for nothing hierarchy seemed to reside in the stony walls of the old city. The Imperials were based there and seemed too dignified, in my opinion and the Stormcloaks were being absurd about the… Nord "traditions" being suppressed.

"Stand back, Khajiit. These pockets aren't for your conniving fingers to go through", one woman had hissed at me. Every humanoid creature in Skyrim referred to me as Khajiit. Never bothering to learn my real name. I'd only come to feel accepted when I met a small caravan of Khajiit travellers that were settling outside of Whiterun momentarily. It felt good to be with my own kind and speak in my own tongue again. The world outside of Elsweyr was surprising and…hateful. I loved it.

Keerava led me up the stairs and turned to the left, opening the first door we came to.

"Here we are—what's your name?" Keerava peered into my face and I took a step back, tail flicking this way and that.

"Asha", I answered. It wasn't my true name, but who wanted to go around saying Ashiramayaneth Ma'dat of Senchal, Southern Elsweyr. That's right. Nobody.

"A pretty name to go with an even prettier face. If you need _anything_ just give a yell", she turned on her heel quickly and left me to my room. I walked in and ran my eyes over the contents. A bed in the right corner with a chest at its foot and just adjacent to that was a large dresser. Beside the bed was a small drawer with a candle sitting on it. I immediately set my pack down and went over to the bed and flung myself onto it. It smelled of straw and smoke. It was…comfy enough, but a traveller like myself couldn't be too picky. I stood up and went over to the mirror that hung on the wall and examined myself in it, smoothing the hair on my chin down.

"By the eight, I've gotten old too fast", I mumbled to myself. My orange coat was slightly ruffled from the long journey and my earrings were pointed in all different directions. Each stood for a rank I'd achieved in school. They were a symbol that I was a talented student. No, not talented. Extremely gifted in the art of thieving. I went through many different tasks and missions to stand where I stood today. Not many were awarded with the talon. Many were given three gold hoops, but if you succeeded through the tasks of the Talon, two talons of a sabre cat, were fashioned into earrings and replaced the gold hoop that hung in the first piercing on the ear. I was honored to wear them. The people of Skyrim never understood this custom, but the Khajiit outside of Whiterun questioned me extensively on how I came to acquire them.

"You wear the talon of the sabre cat", Ri'saad whispered to me, fingering it one night. The fire crackled in the background and the three other Khajiits in the caravan joined us.

"By the eight! She does wear the talon", Atahbah touched it too. "You are one of the few…I myself only have two. I don't wear them anyway, but I never completed most of my tasks-"

"Shut up, Atahbah. I have three hoops, getting the talons can't be that difficult", Khayla scoffed. Her eyes searched me up and down for some explanation. She'd despised me from the moment we met. I knew she'd never trust me. "She doesn't look like anything special." She spat out the piece of meat she'd been chewing on. "Disgusting Nord shit…"

"It was…the most difficult mission I'd embarked on. I never want to experience it again nor do I wish it upon anyone else who seeks the talon", I answered, trying to sound proud without boasting too much. I did feel entitled to a sort of "royal" treatment, but never expected much out of the Khajiit I met. Only praise and awe.

My eyes were a pale blue and the pupils wide; a sign that I was calm. They narrowed when I got angry and got even wider than normal when I was frightened. I pricked my ears forward and listened closely. I heard mumbling, but the words weren't distinct so I stopped trying to listen. The war paint across the top of my forehead was faded slightly, but I wasn't too worried about it. The paints used by the Khajiit lasted months if it had been cured right. I rubbed my fingers in slow circles on my temples and retreated from the mirror, eyeing the chest and dresser. My lip curled back in a mischievous grin and I immediately opened the chest, searching through it. I found a red and navy dress, a little too large for me, but what wasn't. I was on the shorter and thinner end of my kind. It was seen as a blessing. The smaller you were, the less likely you are to be noticed by the untrained eye. I also found a pair of leather boots and a heavy coin purse containing forty-seven gold septims. I chuckled to myself out of success.

"I'll be using you to pay for my new swords and I'll be wearing this dress to do it", I pulled off my own robes that I'd stolen from some unlucky Imperial renting a room at the Bannered Mare and stuffed it inside my pack. I slipped the dress over my head and turned in it. It was floor length and fit better than I expected and I twirled in it. I didn't bother with the shoes. I felt much more comfortable walking around on my own padded feet. I knew they could be trusted to keep quiet. I checked the dresser for more gold, but found nothing inside of it. A piece of half eaten bread sat on a silver plate and I sighed, taking it in one hand and biting out a large chunk. It tasted stale, but my stomach begged for food.

"After the swords, Asha. All of your money goes to your weapons right now", I mumbled to myself. Being on the road so much, one has to be armed and be prepared for hired thugs that might attack at any given time. My weapon of choice is the bow, but I settle for daggers and swords as well. Battle axes and greatswords were too heavy and tended to be used by warriors. I wasn't a warrior by any means, so I shied away from the larger weapons. Being a thief like myself for a living, I usually run into them every other Frostfall.

I pulled my own battered sword from wear it hung on my pack and ran a claw across its edge. "Dull as anything, that's what you are", I mumbled, tying it around my waist. I planned on selling it. I pulled my coin purse from my bag and added the forty-seven to it. I now had more than enough to pay for two new iron swords. I put my pack inside of the chest and closed it, securing it with my own lock. It was one I knew that couldn't be broken open easily by just any lockpick. I left the room quickly, shutting the door behind me and nearly stumbling down the stairs as I made my way outside. I turned to my right again and smoke billowed from the tall chimney above the blacksmith's forge and I walked toward it with haste. A man was sitting on a stool in the corner and his eyes narrowed as I approached.

"Come to see Balimund do his mighty craft, Khajiit?" he asked, standing up and dusting his hands off on his apron.

"I actually wanted to know what this would be worth…" I held out my old iron sword to him and he took it from me, feeling the metal with his hands.

"A well worn piece of iron this is", he muttered more to himself than to me. "You lookin' to sell?" I nodded. "Fifteen gold, cat." My nose wrinkled at the use of his feral term. We were 'cat people', but we were called Khajiits. Not cats.

"It cost ten more than that when I bought it about three months ago", I glared at him. He returned my foul stare and dared me to ask for more.

"Well, now it's worth ten less. Fifteen gold, take it or leave it", he challenged me. I took a deep breath and nodded.

"Fine, your price", he smirked and handed me fifteen gold.

"Anything else you need?"

"What have you got for sale?" He led me over to his work and pointed to the weapons that were laying on the work bench and a couple that were hung up on the wall.

"I crafted those steel ones just yesterday, sharpened to perfection and-"

"What…is that?" I pointed to one of the swords hanging up on the wall. It had a jagged edge and it hooked back before the hilt. The silver of the blade had a pale green tint, hardly noticeable. It was a beautiful blade.

"That's an orcish sword. A fellow brought it to me yesterday. It could be sharpened a little. I'll do it for you right now…if you've got the coin?"

"How much for the blade right now as it is?" I asked, reaching out to touch it. The metal was smooth beneath my fingers and I knew I had to have it.

"Fifty right now, seventy-five with the sharpening", he answered. I only had eighty, but the sword gleamed in the light. It called to me.

"Sharpen it, I'll take it", I answered. Balimund took the blade from the rack and went over to his grindstone. The sound of it scraping against the stone was music to my ears and when he brought it to me I nearly shrieked with excitement. I felt like a little cub again, receiving a gift from my mother on my birthday. I handed him the seventy-five septims and hung the sword at my waist, walking away proudly with my purchase. I stepped out into the rounded area and walked in a slow circle examining the stands. An argonian was selling fine jewelry and a woman was selling armor. I paid attention to neither. I didn't have any coins to spare. I walked around the full length of the circular market and stopped as I noticed a tall, red-haired man staring at me. He smirked at me and beckoned me over with his finger. In his stand were several different kinds of potions.

"Nice sword, lass", he said, pointing at it and maintaining his smile.

"Yes, thank you. I just bought it from Balimund", I answered, retreating slowly. His gaze scrutinized me and I instantly didn't trust him.

"Can I tell you something, lass?" He took a step forward and I took another step back.

"And what's that?" I asked, wrinkling my nose. He smelled of mold.

"You've never done an honest day's work in your life, have you lass?" He smirked at my expression. I was honestly surprised at his choice of words. Saying something like that to any man or woman could earn an accusing blow.

"What makes you say that?" I challenged him, narrowing my eyes.

"You seemed to carry quite a lot of gold on you before buying that sword, no one wastes money like that unless they've got a lot of it. Judging by your clothes, you don't have a job to support this kind of behavior", he smirked. He had me all figured out in a matter of twenty seconds.

"Who are you? My wealth is none of your business", I growled at him, feeling my eyes narrow in their sockets.

"I'm Brnyjolf and I've got a job for you if you're interested", he took a step back toward his stand. "I'll make it worth your while." I couldn't keep the honest interest from my face. I looked around in the surrounding area and nodded.

"What kind of job are you talking about?"

"You see that stand over there. The jewelry stand. It's owned by Madesi. I want you to break into his small safe kept below his counter and steal his silver ring. Then you need to plant it on a Dunmer merchant by the name of Brand-shei. He's standing right over there", he explained, pointing to the cart and then to the argonian that owned it. Brand-shei had long dark hair. I'd use that later to identify him.

"Why would I plant the ring on Brand-shei…" I asked suspiciously, wanting answers.

"Someone wants to cause him grief. No more questions, lass. Are you in? Or are you out?" He stared at me, searching my eyes.

"I'll do it."

"Great, now wait for my distraction", he turned away, toward the crowd that had gathered and cleared his throat. "Attention! Can I have your attention? Please!" I walked to the side and waited as Madesi made his way to Brynjolf as he started speaking about a rare potion he'd just concocted in his family's alchemy lab early this morning. I bent down slowly and glanced around me. No guards in sight. I pulled a lockpick from my pocket and stuck it in, twisting it until it clicked open. Another small chest was inside and I repeated the procedure. It clicked open within a matter of seconds and his silver ring was perched inside. I grabbed it and stood up, slipping it into my pocket. I closed the small door and walked across the round market until I noticed Brand-shei sitting on a couple of crates. I snuck behind them and pulled the ring from my pocket, gently placing it inside his own and then backed away slowly. The job was simple enough and no one seemed to notice my presence. I stood up and walked around the other way, joining the crowd that was listening to Brynjolf's speech.

"That's-That's all for today. Carry on", he said, and walked over to me. The crowd dispersed and several angry, potential customers grumbled about how they wasted their time listening to Brynjolf, the bumbling idiot. "You did it, lass. And not a soul noticed. Well done. Here's your pay." He handed me one hundred gold septims.

"I'm the leader of the Thieve's Guild. We live in the Ragged Flagon down in the Ratway. Meet me there if you've got the mind to join. There will be more gold where that came from", he winked. I nodded slowly, still in shock with how much gold I'd just received.

I sat in my room muttering to myself all night, wondering if I should or should not travel through the Ratway and meet Brynjolf in his own territory. Perhaps, it was a trap. But he was too eager to give me the job…he knew of my talent before he saw it. My talons…that was it. It must have tipped him off. That's it. I decided I had to go. I slunk out of my room with my pack on back still wearing my dress from before. My knew sword hung sheathed at my side and I was ready for any potential danger that I might come upon. I walked out of the Bee and Barb and straight across the rounded market until I came to a flight of stairs that led to the lower level of Riften. If I kept running left, I knew it would bring me to the entrance; Keerava informed me of that.

"You're not thinking of going down there are you? Thugs and…skeevers. They're all over the place. Or so I've heard. You'd be smart to stay away from Brynjolf and his lot. They're just a bunch of trouble is what they are", she grumbled to me, scrubbing away at her counter again. I'd asked her for information on Brnyjolf.

I tossed the thoughts of possible threats aside and turned the handle of the wrought iron gate that stood between me and my knew life. I pulled out another lockpick and shoved it in, turning it this way and that. The lock clicked and I swung the gate inward, opening the door to the Ratway.

The pungent odor of mold and dirty water wafted into my nostrils. It smelled disgusting and I took a step forward, landing my foot in a puddle of gods know what. I shook my foot off and took another step forward, ducking low and keeping as quiet as possible. I drew my new sword and took another few steps forward, my ears twitched back and forth, listening for movement. Two muffled voices could be heard from down the hall and I took a few more steps, sheathing my sword and pulling out my hunting bow and a couple of steel arrows. I moved in closer, just so I could barely make out the left shoulder of a man. I pulled back slowly and drew a breath, releasing the arrow. The arrow hit its mark and the unsuspecting man fell. Another more brutish looking man took his place, looking fierce and suspicious. He wandered down the hall towards me, but I was hidden well beneath the shadows and he didn't see me notch the arrow that took his life next. I notched another arrow just in case I ran into any more thugs. I crept forward, stepping over the bodies carefully and headed down a lit path. The gate was lifted and I couldn't see anything passed it, but a level that was eight feet below me. I shrugged and jumped the distance, landing silently. The ceiling dripped water and a couple of droplets landed on my head and shoulders as I passed through another doorway.

"Well, well, well…what do we have here?" A tall, dark Nord revealed himself and unsheathed a long, steel greatsword. "The Ratway is no place for a young cat like yourself." He chuckled darkly and I quickly pulled back the cord on my bow, releasing it. It struck him between the eyes and he fell. My heart was racing as I maneuvered through the Ratway. It creaked and dripped, skeevers growling in the darkness. I'd never been so scared in my life. I was alone in the middle of a sewer, fighting off beasts that could have possibly infected me with Ataxia. I encountered one more Nord and two skeevers before I walked underneath a curtain of water to reveal an axe that was lodged into a stone in the middle of a tiny garden. I looked at it, reached my hand out to touch it and recoiled. I wasn't going to take anything I didn't have to. I ran underneath another curtain of water and an older looking man stood up in his chair. A skeever lay in a nest in the corner. I quickly notched an arrow and killed the skeever.

"Who are you? And why are you in the Ratway! Get out, Khajiit!" He yelled at me, unsheathing his axe. I pulled out my sword, using it for the first time. I gripped the hilt tightly; perfectly balanced. It felt like air in my hands and I swung it effortlessly toward my pursuer, dodging a blow he had aimed at me first. I swung again and hit him in his shoulder. He sank to his knees and I decapitated him as he went down. His head rolled to the side and I watched it, numbed by the sight. There was a door straight ahead and a sign that read _The Ragged Flagon_. I walked toward it and reached out my hand to open it when something gripped my shoulder tightly and spun me around.

"Who are you?" the voice growled at me. I closed my eyes and then reopened them. His face was dark, but his eyes were bright and narrowed. One was brown and the other was blue. He was a khajiit. "State your business before I slit your throat, sister."

"B-Brynjolf sent me. I swear he did", I sputtered, shaking my head and dropping my sword at my side. He continued to stare at me, loosening his grip on my shoulder slightly. He shifted his face towards the light and three distinct scars were raised across his nose.

"You're not going to kill me, are you?" I asked in Ta'agra, our native language. He stared down at me, scrutinizing my every move. Like me, he had two talon earrings which meant he was born and raised in Elsweyr.

"Get inside before I change my mind."


	2. I Hate Strangers

"You look like a man who appreciates the taste of high quality meat!" A shopkeeper shouted, flinging his meat in my face. "Smells good, yes?" He shouted again this time practically shoving the meat into my mouth. I flicked an ear out of disinterest and dragged my tongue slowly over my teeth,  
"Smells great." I muttered and the shopkeeper laughed heartily and clapped me on the back. "—for the dump." I finished with a menacingly low growl. The merchant stumbled back a few steps and licked his lips nervously,  
"I-I'm, it's fresh I don't understand…" He trailed off but with a casual flick of my tail I sauntered away, the irritation already forgotten. I'd been in Markarth several times before and each time the small city proved to offer nothing new or even remotely exciting. The same bedlam jobs, the same faces, and of course let's not forget the monotonous hostility. But the hostility was hardly anything new. It was so normal to be scoffed at and shunned I'd taken it upon myself to look as unapproachable as possible, at least now they had the sense to keep their mouths shut. Being told to "keep my hands to myself" was becoming somewhat of an annoyance. But I wasn't here to complain, I came to fulfill my role as a stereotypical Khajiit: steal anything and everything of value.  
I'd barely taken four steps outside the central market when something caught my attention: A Nord man dressed in the robes of a disciple of Stendarr waving his arms seemingly at me. I narrowed my eyes and pinned my ears flat against my skull, clearly sending a negative message. My different colored eyes generally served me well in avoiding social situations and an openly angry stance such as this was usually enough to send most Nords and…others, scurrying away to safety but this one either had a death wish or was particularly desperate.  
"I could use your help!" He hissed, beckoning me toward him. I was inclined to ignore him and pick his pockets just for the hell of it but his persistence was amusing. I relaxed and made my way towards him, taking my sweet, sweet time. "Please, hurry!" He growled urgently and upon reaching him, he scrutinized me carefully, noting my odd colored eyes and general dark demeanor. "You'll do, you'll do…" He muttered to himself and I shifted my ears forward, capturing his words and making my own discreet observations. His heart was beating at an abnormally fast rate and his eyes shifted constantly, never staying in one place for long. Both signs of apprehension, maybe fear. I watched him with interest as he composed himself with a deep breath and straightened to his full height which, unfortunately for him, was still shorter than me.  
"Well?" I growled coolly, crossing my arms over my chest. The Nord cleared his throat and with his fingers, beckoned me toward a house a little further down the road.  
"I'm a disciple of—"  
"Stendarr. I know." I finished for him, nodding at his robes. He rolled his eyes sheepishly and decided it was best to skip the petty introductions which was good. I hated wasting my time.  
"The name's Tyranus and there's suspected daedric activity in this house and…" He faltered towards the end, probably out of embarrassment. A Nord's sense of pride was a degree or two past ridiculous.  
"And you need help?" I asked with the barest hint of a smirk. We both knew the answer to his question but it was one thing to give help and another to be asked for it.  
"Will you…?" Tyranus gave me a hopeful glance and I shrugged easily. I wasn't one to pass up opportunities, no matter how strange or potentially dangerous. I gestured with an arm toward the door,  
"Lead the way." I murmured and the disciple stiffened slightly before taking the lead. If he thought I was going to put my life on the line for a stranger, a _Nord _stranger, no less, then he was oh so very wrong.  
It was dark inside, pitch black was more accurate. At least it was for the Nord. Khajiit weren't strangers to darkness.  
"Can't find the damn torch…" He muttered to himself and I shook my head,  
"Humans…" I whispered to myself before supplying him with a torch and before he even knew what he was holding, I'd already lit it and moved on ahead. "Wait, you don't know what we're dealing with!" Tyranus hissed worriedly and I lazily flicked my ears back and forth. Fine, if he wanted to go in front then I wasn't about to stop him. I waited for him to slowly stalk past, torch held out in front of him and beads of sweat already lining his forehead. It was all I could do to snatch the torch from him and leave him behind in the darkness. Aside from the millions of things that annoyed me, slowness was definitely one of the top five. A low tremor shook the floor beneath us and shelves crashed to the floor on either side of us and out of force of habit, I dropped low and crouched on the floor, poised to pounce. Tyranus seemed badly shaken and had gone so far as to drop the torch, thank the Eight Markarth was 99% stone. The shaking persisted and even intensified, buckets and chairs rolled to and fro and loose stones tumbled to the ground missing us by mere inches. "This is no mere daedra! Get out!" Tyranus shouted, doubling back without even bothering to wait for me. And I'd thought we'd bonded. "The door's stuck!" He shouted again and I pinned my ears back and bared my teeth, his screams plus all this noise was enough to make me claw my own eyes out.  
_"Weak. He's Weak. You're strong. Crush him." _Came a thundering voice that shook me to my core and rattled my bones and it was then that I was reacquainted with an emotion I hadn't felt in a long time: fear. Furniture began rising in the air and I bolted to my feet and looked for any possible means of escape. I could still hear Tyranus banging his fist against the door and shouting for help but the truth was we both knew better, nobody would hear him. _"No. Kill him. Crush his bones. Tear at his flesh. You will kill. You will kill, or you will die!" _The voice came again and my blood ran cold in my veins. I was suddenly aware that Tyranus had stopped his banging and even his screams had ceased, the disciple actually stood just feet away from me with his sword in hand and his face set with determination. His eyes gave me a silent apology as he came at me but it really should've been I who apologized. I twisted lithely away from Tyranus' blade and rolled across the stone floor and easily sprang to my feet and sank my twin blades into Tyranus' back and twisted with finality. He didn't even have time to scream and I watched the fire die in his eyes. Part of me felt smug, he deserved to die, but still part of me felt pity. He'd chosen the wrong person as a helper. _"Yes. Your reward is waiting for you, mortal. Further down."_ Came the same voice as I wiped Tyranus' blood on the leg of my pants. I knew following the daedra's orders were a bad idea but NOT following his orders could easily prove to be worse.

The house suddenly stopped shaking and the furniture that had been floating fell to the ground with an ear shattering clatter and I progressed through the house with extreme caution and wariness. I had no intention of dying. I still had millions of pockets to pick and places to discover and no daedra was about to rob me of my own life. I eventually came to a tunnel dug into the wall of the basement that wound deep underground and with narrowed eyes and an insatiable curiosity, I descended into the tunnel. The tunnel was bathed in an unearthly light and a thin layer of mist covered the floor and the air tasted metallic, almost bloody. I couldn't help but think I wasn't the first victim to be walking these halls. A sharp glint caught my eye and I squinted for a better look and strained my ears for any sign of oncoming danger. After several seconds of quiet observation I decided it was safe to proceed and I stumbled upon a black altar and in the center lay a daedric mace. My thieving mind wanted nothing more to grab it and run but the more rational side held back. I was dealing with a daedric prince and as far as I knew, there wasn't a single prince who freely gave out prizes. But…maybe…this once…I took a tentative step forward and reached out for the mace. Nothing happened. I took another step, then another, and nothing happened. I tilted my head suspiciously but I was through second guessing myself. I took the final step forward and just as my fingertips brushed the cool surface of the mace, I found myself to be caught in a cage of metal spikes that had risen from the ground out of nowhere. _"Fool! Did you think Molag Bal, the Lord of Domination, would so easily reward you?"_ I swore at my own foolishness and gripped the bars with my hands and shook them angrily but they wouldn't budge. Just as I expected. _"What do you see from that little cage? SPEAK." _The daedric prince commanded and I curled my lip back angrily, I didn't do so well in small spaces.  
"I'd tell you if these bars weren't in the way." I spat spitefully, rattling the bars again. The prince chuckled a low, rumbling sound and the bars leaned in closer together trapping me in an even smaller space.  
_"I'll ask one more time. What do you see?"_ I narrowed my eyes into fine slits and with contempt dripping from my every word, I answered  
"An altar." I growled and the black altar glowed with an unholy light and the bars shifted slightly with a gravelly groan. "A desecrated altar." I added in a lower voice and one angry snarl from Molag Bal later and I was slammed against my confines. The bars were a crude black metal that cut my skin and they sloped upward and ended in a dangerous point that was uncomfortably close to my face.  
_"I know it's desecrated you worthless cat."_ Molag Bal snarled as I tried to wring myself free from the cage but the bars only cut in deeper into my skin. _"I once had many a sacrifice, much blood was spent on my honor until…"_ The bars closed in even further and I managed to free my head but the cage was crushing my ribcage and forcing the breath out of my lungs. If this continued much longer I could see myself being crushed to death. _"…Until Boethiah."_ Molag Bal finished with another hair raising growl. The bars suddenly retreated back to their original positions and I slumped to the floor and sucked in a huge breath; I'd never been so grateful for oxygen in my life.  
"He is the Lord of conspiracies." I muttered as I shook my fur free of dust and grime. I could feel the atmosphere grow heavy again and I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at the altar unblinkingly, "Is it revenge you want?" I asked slowly, carefully, not wanting to set him off again but the prince only chuckled darkly.  
_"Revenge? No. I want submission. I want the priest who did this to bend his knee and give me his soul._" I leaned against the back of the cage and gave the alter an amused smile.  
"So you want revenge." Molag Bal ignored my insolence and continued speaking,  
_"He comes by to perform Boethiah's insulting rites at my altar, but he's been missing. Captured and bound. Left to rot." _I shifted positions and exhaled deeply, this was getting dull fast. _"Save him. Let him perform his rite one more time. And when he does, we will be waiting for him."_ My eyelids snapped open and I jerked my head back,  
"We?" Why would I want to work with a daedric prince? I could hear the soft jingle of gold rattling in a hidden coin purse and the scent of freshly forged steel wafted into my nostrils,  
_"We." _The prince whispered faintly and the next second, the bars fell away and I was free. I leaped away and circled the altar cautiously. I strained my ears forward, listening for any last words from the prince but none came and all I heard was the constant jingle of gold coins and the smell of steel and I quickly reached understanding. It was a bribe of sorts. Molag Bal knew a thief when he saw one. I backed away from the altar and nodded once in silent agreement before making the trek back into the outside world.

I stepped over Tyranus' body on the way out and left his pockets untouched. I may be a thief and a Khajiit thief to boot but I didn't let myself take from any divine disciples. Even if the disciple was Tyranus. I pushed the door open and hissed as the sunlight burned my eyes leaving them tingly and squeezed shut. I covered my face with a hand and slammed the door shut behind me out of spite. Whoever this priest was could wait. I had better things to do than fool with a daedric prince. Molag Bal's been alive this long, he could wait a few days. Or a few years. I rolled my shoulders and took one last look at Markarth, as much as I would've liked to sift through every building and take what I wanted, I decided it was time to go home. My ribs were bruised and in pain and my tail sported a long rip that dripped blood every few steps and the first rule of a thief was to never leave a trail and the drops of blood did nothing to help my situation. People stared as I walked past and I gave them all pointed glares and a low snarl. It was amusing to see them all treat me as if I was some feral beast. I stole some meat from the very man I'd insulted hours before and slipped out of the city and onto the next carriage due for Riften. I watched as the city slowly passed from view and I leaned back lazily and let myself slip into a light slumber. Divines knew I'd need it, getting sleep at the Ragged Flagon was practically unheard of.

"Unless you want to pay double the carriage fare, I suggest you get off." Bjorlam muttered, nudging me in the shoulder with the butt of a wine bottle. I opened my eyes slowly and stretched,  
"I've never paid before and I don't intend on starting." I replied, taking the bottle from Bjorlam's hands. He chuckled good naturedly and clapped me on the back as I dismounted the carriage,  
"Enjoy the skooma." He called as I passed through the city gates and I grunted in reply. Bjorlam had been the first Nord I'd met when I first entered Skyrim after an arduous journey from Morrowind and, much to my surprise, we became fast friends. He appreciated my silence and I didn't mind his constant chatter. He held no prejudices against me and I held none against him. It was an odd and seemingly one sided friendship but it worked and we were both content. He gave me free rides and I fulfilled any material needs. It was a win-win. The guards gave me nervous glances and I ignored them, their refusal to even try to uproot the Thieve's Guild was annoying. I'd always lived "on the edge" so to speak and their own petty fears made life in the Ratway dull. And Maven Black-Briar, though fundamentally our sponsor, was just asking for a knife to the throat. I didn't care how rich she was or the connections she had, as soon as the Guild was back on its feet, her life would be the first thing I'd take. Brynjolf was strongly against my intended plans but I'd never let anyone stop me from getting what I wanted so why start now.

It was a little past noon and I circled around the houses until I reached the cemetery and I slipped into an unassuming shack that stood beside a statue of Talos and pressed the button on the wall with the toe of my boot. I waited for the familiar grind of stone against stone but when it never came I pressed the button again. And again. And kicked it a third but still nothing happened. I cursed out of irritation and made my way back to the center of town and swung over the wooden railing and onto a short dock that jutted out into the dirty river of Riften.  
"I told Brynjolf that damn thing was about to break…" I growled as I stepped from rafter to rafter, avoiding the cloudy puddles until I reached the familiar iron wrought gate. It had been at least a year since I'd used this entrance and I dreaded it. The Ratway wasn't the Ratway for no reason. It was skeever infested and home to the…"mentally unstable" population of Riften which was more than I cared to count. I pushed the gate open and instantly froze in place. This gate was supposed to be locked. I leaned down and glanced at the lock before fingering it with a sharp claw, it had definitely been picked by someone. I sniffed the lock and easily picked up the scent of a fellow Khajiit, a female Khajiit. I tilted my head in interest, I hadn't seen one of my own kind in months; I tended to not associate with the travelling caravans. I silently closed the gate behind me and slipped through the second door further inside and after adjusting to t he darkness of the Ratway, I heard the sound of one body hitting the ground and seconds later, a second. I pricked my ears forward, fully alert and I caught sight of the end of a tail bobbing in the darkness. It was a clean white like all Khajiit tails and I glanced at my own bloody tail and lashed it back and forth before stalking after the stranger. At least I wouldn't have to do any of the work.

I quickly caught up with the infiltrator and smirked lightly, so it was female. She moved with a stiffness that compromised the natural grace of our species but I assumed it was caused by the anxiety of being in a sewer. She held a bow tightly in her hands and I wrinkled my nose in distaste, a hunting bow and an orcish sword. I sincerely hoped she was poor and not stupid. Even in my…less wealthy days, I never settled with a hunting bow. They were never aligned properly and were far too stiff to be used effectively. To use one was almost an insult. She silently crept along until she reached the ledge and with a shrug, leaped to the ground nearly eight feet below. I was surprised to hear a man's voice and casually leaned over the edge and watched as the female deftly maneuvered around the bulky Nord, dodging his every blow. She seemed to be able to handle herself well enough in a fight but not so much with the actual killing. With a quick swipe of her sword, she decapitated the Nord and watched with horrified eyes as his head rolled across the floor leaving a trail of blood and severed nerves. My ears twitched gently and I snorted softly, what the hell was she doing down here? The Guild had no place for the squeamish. I sighed quietly and leaped over the edge, it was high time I met the trespasser myself.

I grabbed the Khajiit by the shoulder and spun her around to face me,  
"Who are you?" I growled, lowering my head and growling threateningly. She seemed thoroughly shocked by my sudden appearance and dropped her sword. It clattered noisily to the ground and I flattened my ears and snapped my jaws angrily and lowered my head even further until I had a clear shot at her throat. After all I did have fangs and they weren't used half as much as they should be. "You better tell me before I tear your throat out, sister." I hissed and she swallowed nervously,  
"B-Brynjolf sent me, I swear he did." She sputtered quickly, the anxiety and shock clearly showing in her eyes. I blinked and straightened to my full height. She also relaxed and her hands shifted at her sides and I growled softly and she froze and stared back, "You're not going to kill me, are you?" Her voice was soft and she spoke in our native language which surprised me even though I should've expected it. I took note of the talons she wore in her ears and twitched my own ears absently. A native Elsweyrian. A rare breed in Skyrim. Whether out of our shared ancestry or her intriguing beauty, I wasn't sure which, I allowed her to go inside without so much as a scratch.  
"Get inside before I change my mind." I snapped and she rushed forward but I grabbed her by the back of the shirt and she glanced at me cautiously but I merely gestured at the orcish sword that still lay on the ground. She half laughed to hide her embarrassment as she bent down to pick up her sword but my expression remained unchanged and I pushed her forward roughly. "Move." I growled, still speaking in our native language. She stumbled forward unsteadily and I slammed the door behind us causing her to jump slightly. Her uneasiness was entertaining.

She stared with wide eyes and an open mouth at the circular pool of water and the many tables and c hairs and the primitive but fully functional bar that had been set up on the other side. I easily picked out Brynjolf's flaming hair from the other side and he quickly turned around and waved his hand in greeting,  
"I was wondering when you'd show up again, J!" He yelled and I scoffed in reply,  
"You should take better care of your toys, Brynjolf." I growled, pushing the female Khajiit forward again. She gave me a distressed look over her shoulder and I met her gaze unflinchingly. It would take more than a pretty face to change my attitude.  
"Who? Her?" Brynjolf asked, gesturing toward the Khajiit. "The lass is a promising thief, at least treat her with a _little _respect." Brynjolf muttered but I ignored him and pulled out the bottle of skooma Bjorlam had given me and took a long draught. "She broke into Madesi's strongbox, stole a ring AND planted it on Brand Shei all within a few minutes." Brynjolf added as if sharing the details was supposed to impress me. I gave him a bored stare and sank into a chair across from Delvin Mallory who nodded a hello.  
"She's a Khajiit. I'd be ashamed if she couldn't do a task as simple as that." I muttered and Delvin chuckled softly and tapped my bottle with his mead jug,  
"Some protégé, eh?" I grunted into my bottle in reply and Brynjolf shook his head slowly and gave the Khajiit an encouraging clap on the back.  
"You'll get used to him lass, he's not all bad." Vex appeared from the dark corner she usually stayed in and raised an eyebrow,  
"Right, he's worse." She murmured, disappearing behind the door that led to the cistern. The female Khajiit gave me a worried look and remained silent and probably even more wary of me than before.  
"Mercer wants to see you." Brynjolf added, gesturing for me to follow him. I made an annoyed sound in the back of my throat and swiveled my ears back and forth. There was something about Mercer that I just didn't like and speaking to him always left me in a fouler mood than before. I set my bottle down on the table and followed Brynjolf and the she-Khajiit into the cistern.

The female slowly turned around to face me as we walked and she flashed me a timid smile which I did _not _return.  
"I'm-I'm Asha." She murmured, no longer speaking in the native language. I gave her a disinterested half smile,  
"That's nice." I replied coolly. She turned to face forward again and Brynjolf shot me an annoyed look, obviously he was less than pleased with my attitude. Asha turned back to face me as we stopped at the center of the cistern, waiting for Mercer to finish his conversation with another guild member.  
"I take it you're…J?" Her voice was soft and lilting, it was nice to hear and unlike most female Khajiits. She lacked the gravelly undertones that many Nords took a dislike to. I nodded once, confirming her question. "That can't be your real name…" She murmured and I smirked lightly,  
"It isn't." We made eye contact and I took in the blueness of her eyes, they were a deeper blue than mine and a rarity among our kind. Blue eyes were a sign of good luck and, if tradition proved true, she was the luckiest Khajiit I'd ever met.  
"What's your real name?" She asked timidly and I broke eye contact and focused straight ahead.  
"It's none of your concern." I growled, signaling I was done making friendly small talk. She took the hint and turned back to face Mercer who was talking animatedly to Brynjolf. Brief introductions were made and I gradually lost interest and stared with increasing boredom at the pathetic excuse of a waterfall that fed into the cistern but it was Mercer who finally brought me out of the deepest recesses of my mind.  
"J, you will accompany Asha to the Goldenglow Estate."  
"WHAT?" I snapped angrily and Mercer held up his hands,  
"No arguments. Go and observe. That's an order." He growled and I snarled angrily and turned my back on the three of them and tried to collect myself.  
"I am _not _a babysitter." I growled and Brynjolf squeezed my shoulder lightly,  
"No but you're one hell of an observer." He flashed me a bright smile and wished us both luck before departing to gods know where. Mercer had also left by then, not open to any further discussion and I was alone with Asha.  
"I'm…sorry?" She murmured, unsure of herself and I squared my shoulders and without turning to face her, spoke to her in our native tongue again.  
"We leave tomorrow at dawn."  
"That's fine but-" I swung around to face her again and brought my face inches from hers,  
"One wrong move and I'll kill you." I snarled and she blinked quickly, backing away and I left her standing at the center of the cistern, alone. Playing babysitter was the last thing I needed and especially for something as minute as the Goldenglow Estate. A khajiit cub could take care of the problem blindfolded and without any weapons. I spat angrily and stormed back out into Riften and headed for the Bee and the Barb. I needed a drink. Preferably with people who _weren't _thieves.


	3. J'Rakha's Past

The air was alive with music and laughter and the sound of bare feet tapping the solid earth. Khajiit women of all colors clothed in bright skirts and their arms and ankles covered with bangles and bells danced acrobatically, twisting first one way then another and performing flips and somersaults that never failed to amaze me. Amongst them, I found a younger Khajiit female with dark fur and odd colored eyes that matched mine. She wore a leaf green skirt that stopped at he ankles and a white bandeau to match with a golden ornament in the center. A golden circlet was placed on her head and I watched her as she moved fluidly amongst her fellow friends and dancers and I smiled with pride. T'zel moved with all the grace of the Anuari family; I was proud to call her my sister. She caught my eye and she waved excitedly,  
"J! It's been so long!" She called just seconds before flipping in the air an dlanding perfectly poised on her feet. I clapped for her and laughed,  
"I couldn't miss the Skooma Festival!" I yelled back and she laughed over the loud music,  
"Have you seen mom and dad?" She asked after performing a series of somersaults and I shrugged in reply. I hadn't seen them in almost 4 years. I was 19 and my own man, no parents to tie me down anymore. "Well, tell them hello for me!" T'zel yelled before twirling away. I didn't get a chance to reply and grunted sheepishly, Khajiit parents instilled a fierce independence from the day of our births and many often left their parent's homes by age 16 to live their own lives. I'd made the d ecision a year earlier and left at 15 and spent the next 3 and a half years venturing Elsweyr from my south tropical roots to the unfamiliar north. T'zel had joined me a year later and accompanied me on my travels for a year before returning home herself, unlike me she loved the small village we'd grown up in and didn't thirst for adventure like I did. I'd learned much to say the least and was wiser than most my age and I'd finally decided to return home after years of living on the road. My parents no doubt missed their only son and I, admittedly, was a little eager to see them again.

I recognized many of the Khajiit present at the festival and many recognized me and gave me a warm welcome home, I even ran into several of my old friends. It was nostalgic to see so many familiar faces, many of which I'd gone to school with. Well, not school in the traditional sense. We had no use for magicka or combat training. Most of it came naturally.  
"J'Rakha?" A soft voice murmured to my right and I turned to face none other than my mother. She had grown thinner over the years and her dark fur had a slight silver tinge and her grey eyes had an almost milky quality as if she was on the verge of going blind.  
"Mother." I mumbled thickly and I embraced her. She nuzzled me gently and I could hear a deep rumbling purr begin in her chest and I flicked my ears gently to the side and returned the nuzzle. She pulled away and stepped back to get a full view of me.  
"It's been too long, J." She murmured, squeezing my hands and I chuckled deeply.  
"I know…I'm sorry." I said with a smile and she ruffled my head between my ears as she'd always done since I was only a small cub.  
"My but haven't you grown." She smiled light heartedly, making me turn around in front of her and I guess she was right. The last time she'd seen me w as when I was only 15, still a cub by most standards. "You look just like your father." I cocked an eyebrow skeptically and she smiled sheepishly, "When he was younger." She added and I grumbled in reply.  
"Where is the old man anyway?" My mother grabbed my forearm in her hand and pulled me along behind her,  
"Come and see." We slipped through the massive crowd of Khajiit that had begun to form, all were clapping their hands merrily and dancing with whoever happened to be nearest to them and here I was blundering through the crowd and not being able to keep the wide grin off my face. My mother led me straight into a long straw hut on the far side of town with columns of smoke billowing into the sky and the scent of skooma was heavy in the air.  
"He's not—he can't _still _be trying to win." I scoffed as we stopped just outside the doors and my mother rolled her eyes and massaged the sides of her head warily,  
"You know your father." She opened the doors and led me inside. "J'Zhirr!" She called, cupping a hand around her mouth but there was no answer and I didn't expect one. The long hut housed dozens of tables and at each hundreds of Khajiit sat with tankards full of skooma, though a significantly less potent variation and more like the Nord mead than a dangerous narcotic.

I scanned the rows of Khajiit and instantly picked out several aunts, uncles, and cousins. Even several nephews scattered about here and there downing skooma by the tankard. I could remember the first time I'd been allowed to participate in my first ever drinking competition. I was only 13and could hardly keep myself from vomiting any skooma I'd dared to drink but it was an experience I wouldn't trade for the world. I pivoted my ears from side to side, taking in all the voices and listening for one in particular. "J'Zhirr, your son is here!" My mother shouted again, waving her hands and at the end of one of the first tables stood a tall Khajiit with fur as dark as the night sky. His flame colored eyes searched the crowd until they found mine and a wide grin stretched across his face,  
"Rakha!" He yelled, clamoring over the other Khajiit sitting at the table. They all grumbled with annoyance as he swayed unsteadily on his feet, clipping another Khajiit behind the ears. But none said anything and moved out of the way as my father blundered toward us, after all, disrespecting a clean leader was akin to treason. Not that my father cared. He wasn't like most Khajiit. "Ra Shei why didn't you get me sooner?" My father cried as he threw an arm around my shoulders and squeezed tightly and my mother shook her head and sighed,  
"I'll just leave you two alone, then." She muttered and with a parting pat on the back, she exited the hut.  
"She never did like skooma…" My father murmured before shrugging and turning his attention back to me. "So, Rakha, tell me. How've you been?" He guided me toward a quieter corner, away from the other roaring Khajiit and sat me down at an isolated table. I snorted loudly and leaned back in my chair,  
"It's been 5 years since my naming ceremony. Shouldn't you be calling me J'Rakha?" My father waved a hand carelessly in the air and scoffed,  
"You'll always be Rakha the tiny cub who chewed my ears till they bled." He smiled fondly at the memory and his voice grew considerably quieter, "What have you been doing for four years, son?" He asked and I told him about my travels from Senchal to Riverhold and about the different Khajiit I encountered on the way from the four-legged Pahmar to the rare Mane. "Ed' I'ear ar' elenea!" My father murmured and I grinned, proud to have impressed my father. The incredulous smile slowly faded from his face and was replaced with one of sadness. "You won't want to stay here then, would you." He murmured half to himself and half to me. I cocked my head to the side and thought about what he said and I sighed, it was true I hadn't exactly thought about settling down here, in Pesshef.  
"No…I-no." I muttered and my father huffed a sigh and shrugged,  
"Well then share one last drink with me." He rose and I followed him to one of the many long tables and we squeezed in between my father's brother and one of my many cousins and before I knew what was happening, there were 5 tankards of skooma lined up in front of me. "One four the road and 4 for a night you won't remember." My father shouted and the crowd of Khajiit surrounding roared with laughter and I joined in.  
"Cheers." I muttered and I brought the tankard to my lips and with a few hearty gulps, leaked the rim clean and moved on to the next tankard. I repeated the same process until all 5 tankards were empty and a heavy haze settled on my brain.  
"That's my son!" My father laughed and for the next several hours I was lost in a bliss only skooma could bring but, as they say, all good things come to an end.

"Did you hear that?" A sleepy voice mumbed beside me and I stirred in my drug induced slip and jerked awake. I glanced around me at the hundreds of Khajiit bodies strewn across the table and the floor, their breaths reeked of skooma and I coughed roughly. I might as well have been sitting in a vat of skooma. A loud bang sounded from far away and the ground beneath us shook gently and I blinked stupidly,  
"I heard _that_." I muttered, rubbing my eyes sleepily.  
"Probably just exploding flares outside." Another voice echoed a few feet away and I shrugged in acceptance. Exploding flares was always a huge attraction at the Skooma Festival. My father was out cold beside me with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and I smacked my lips distastefully and grunted, J'Zhirr Anuari behaved more like a cub than I did sometimes. I shifted positions and let my face drop onto the wooden table and I quickly drifted back to sleep but another tremor later and I was stirred awake for the second time.  
"What the hell…" I hissed, covering my ears with my hands and tucking my face into the crook of my elbow. "Tell them to stop the flares." I growled and scattered groans of agreement sounded from all over the hut but nobody got up to do anything about it. The tremors continued but they were easy enough to ignore, that is, until the crash. It sounded like it was raining boulders outside and it was then that the screams reached my ears. The other Khajiit around me slowly rose to their feet, fully awake and confused. I nudged my father until he finally awoke and he deadpanned, a rumbling growl rising in his chest.  
"You better have a good reason—" He began but he was interrupted by a loud crack and a heartbeat later, the roof caved in, showering us all with boulders and broken pieces of clay. My father shot to his feet and dove out of the way and out the door with me close behind. "What the hell!" He shouted and I looked around me, completely disoriented. One second I was comfortably asleep and the next, the roof had caved in and I was rolling out the door. The fact that my world was reeling didn't help either. I felt a hand grab me by the back of the shirt and haul me to my feet, "On your feet Rakha!" My father shouted and I scrambled to an upright position, still swaying unsteadily. "MOVE!" Came another shout and I obeyed without another word, I wasn't sure where I was going only that I had to get out. My father was beside me, his hand on my elbow and yanking me this way and that. Amazed was an understatement to what I felt about my father being able to move with such agility after the amount he drank. It wasn't until the smell of smoke and burnt fur reached my nostrils that I became fully awake. I was suddenly aware of burning buildings and screaming women and the familiar sound of shock magic popping and crackling. I glanced around wildly and I caught sight of an army of black robed figures, all tall and pale with long flowing hair that reached their shoulders: High Elves. Even worse, they were Thalmor.  
"What are they doing here?" I shouted, glancing at my father who continued sprinting but I could tell by the way he set his jaw and his unusual silence that he was furious.  
"Find your mother." He ordered, shoving me toward the center of Pesshef where I'd seen T'Zel dancing just hours before. "I'll find your sister, meet us in Torfan!" He added and before I could say anything else, he disappeared amongst the screaming, fleeing crowd and I too pushed my way through the fighting crowd. I screamed my mother's name repeatedly but without any luck. I dashed from one burning building to the next, inhaling smoke and coughing all the way but I couldn't leave my mother behind to die at the hand of the Thalmor. _Not _the Thalmor. I sprinted into the last building in sight, it belonged to an older Khajiit couple but I assumed it was empty now. I kicked the door down and moved from room to room, scanning the floor for any side of my mother but I found none and I felt the panic rise in my chest. How could such a perfect day develop into the worst night of my life?  
"J'Rakha…" Coughed a voice from the corner and I whipped around, searching wildly for the source. "I'm here, son." Came the voice again from beneath a pile of rubble and I hurriedly pulled the wooden boards up and kicked them away until I could see the body of a badly burned Khajiit—my mother.  
"What-what happened—mom?" I whispered frantically, dropping to my knees. I hauled my mother out from underneath the rubble and I held her once strong body in my arms. Her sleek, dark fur was now charred and patches of raw, burned skin covered her entire body. One of her ears had a chunk missing and her tail had been severed. I shook my head vigorously in denial, no mere fire did this to my mother. The bitter scent of magicka hung in the air and I knew this was the work of a Thalmor agent.  
"J'Rakha." My mother whispered, touching my chin with a trembling finger. I breathed past the growing lump in my throat and I hadn't been aware of my trembling until my mother's hand slowly moved to still my shoulder. "My son." She murmured softly, gently scratching the hollow behind my left ear. "Tell your father—" She coughed weakly and I shook my head furiously,  
"No, no, no, you can tell him yourself." I whispered urgently, furiously. But my mother only smiled and shushed me softly,  
"Tell him I love him and Rakha?" Her hand moved from behind my ear to the space between my ears and she weakly ruffled my fur affectionately, "I'm proud of you." And with one last weak smile, I watched the life fade from her eyes and I knew she was gone. I gripped her tighter and buried my face into the hollow of her neck, I refused to believe she was gone. She had been fine half an hour ago, she couldn't just _die_. Tragedies weren't supposed to happen to me, not here in Pesshef, and especially not to people like my mother. A sudden blast of heat knocked me off my feet and sent me sprawling backwards and where I'd been seconds before was up in flames and the house began crashing around me. I shouted when I watched a portion of the roof crash over my mother, burying her again and I bit back the wave of fury that washed over me in that instant. I scrambled to my feet and raced out the door and with another blast of heat and a deafening roar, I was thrown off my feet again and I landed in a heap on the gravelly ground with my tail on fire. I hissed with pain and slammed my tail into the ground, putting out the fire and I bolted back onto my feet and dashed into the surrounding forest of Pesshef, the Torfan Forest. I looked back over my shoulder at the house my mother was trapped inside and I stopped to watch for a moment. I regretted not thanking her for her guidance over the years and I especially regretted staying away for so long. I ground my teeth together and stared at the ground, she had no reason to be proud of me. I was still the same cub that had left 4 years ago. I caught sight of a crowd of Thalmor Mages and I turned tail and fled into the forest. Had my father not instructed to meet in the forest, I had no doubt I would've tried to avenge my mother's death. Even if that meant killing just one Thalmor soldier.

The forest was unsettlingly quiet and the skooma partially impaired my ability to see in the dark and gods know how many trees I'd run into. I'd been running for what felt like hours and I finally couldn't go any further and let myself fall into a bloody heap on the forest floor. My hands strayed to the flesh wounds on my face, I could feel three distinct burns across my face from the thousands of flying embers and the fur had been singed away and I sighed. I'd be wearing these for the rest of my life.  
"I was wondering when you'd get here." A voice muttered gruffly further away and I froze in place,  
"Dad?" I whispered and the voice answered with a garbled cough. My throat closed again and I scrambled to my feet and searched anxiously for my father. If he was dying too then I didn't know what I'd do with myself. I found him leaning against a tree trunk, his hand clutching his stomach and a body in his lap. Upon closer inspection, I discovered he had carried T'Zel all the way with him. "T'Zel…" I murmured, my voice cracking. She was in the exact condition my mother had been in except she was burned almost beyond recognition. I grabbed the sides of my head and held my breath, trying to keep the anger in. My claws dug into my skin but I could hardly register the pain, there was only so much I could take.  
"Rakha." My father commanded, coughing again and I turned around to face him. The scent of blood was heavy in the air and I frantically searched the forest floor for any type of moss,  
"We have to stop the blood—there has to be moss around here somewhere." I muttered, trying to hide the obvious brokenness out of my voice.  
"Rakha—" My father started again but I didn't want to hear it. I couldn't.  
"Moss grows on trees sometimes, right? I think I read that somewhere…" I ventured further away, feeling every tree trunk for any type of moss but each time I came back empty handed and a little more disheartened.  
"Son, stop." My father grunted, hissing between his teeth but I ignored him and dropped to my knees, still searching for anything that could absorb blood quickly. I eventually began tearing my shirt into long strips and mashing a healing herb in my teeth and spreading the thick substance onto the bandages I'd made.  
"Jut hang on, I found herbs, we can fix this." I muttered more for my benefit than his. I gingerly held the strips of cloth in my hand and moved my father's hand away from his wound. It was deep and fluids other than blood oozed and pooled onto the forest floor and I _knew _my bandages would do nothing to stop the blood but that didn't stop me from trying anyway. I uprooted more of the healing herb I'd chanced upon and held them up to my father's lips, "Eat this, it—it'll help I swear." I whispered with shaky fingers but my father moved my hand away but I angrily fought his control. "I CAN'T JUST LET YOU DIE." I shouted angrily, shoving his hand away but he met my eyes evenly, unblinkingly.  
"I can never die." He murmured softly and he laid a firm hand on my chest, "You just can't see me anymore." He added, his voice even quieter. I crushed the herbs in my hand and I slammed my fist into the ground.  
"No, this isn't happen—I just need to wake the _fuck _up." I snarled, squeezing my eyes shut momentarily and reopening them again but the nightmare I thought I was in was still there. I could still smell T'Zel's burnt body and my father's blood mingled with my own.  
"Y'know, I had always planned on making you clan leader." He murmured, shifting positions again. "Looks like there's no clan for you to lead anymore." He mumbled quietly and I met my father's eyes. His ability to still smile through his wounds was heartbreaking. "You always did show promise, even as a cub. Your mother used to complain you had too much spirit to fit in that tiny body of yours." He laughed weakly and I felt the lump rise in my throat again.  
"About mom…" I started but my father held up a hand and shook his head sadly,  
"I know. It's okay." He murmured and I felt the same rage I felt when she died rise in my chest. No, it wasn't 'okay'. He could sense my boiling rage and beckoned for me to sit beside him,  
"Give a man his dying wish, hmm?" My father muttered, patting the ground beside him and I reluctantly sat beside him. "Before I go—" I hissed angrily at the lightness of his voice and I looked away. "—I want you to know it was a privilege to be your father." I froze at his words and the rage slowly melted into a crippling depression. "Raising you and T'Zel-" His breath caught in his throat and I felt the threat of my eyes filling slowly rise. "—well, let's just say those were the good ol' days." He whispered softly. I didn't have the heart or the strength to face him and continued staring out at the darkness of the forest, listening to the words of a dying man. He continued speaking for almost an hour, visiting old memories and laughing at the good times. He patted me on the back occasionally but he never stopped talking, I knew he was in a tremendous amount of pain just by listening to his voice and I also knew this was his way of comforting his son, the sole survivor. He eventually ran out of things to say and he lapsed into a silence, his hand still on my shoulder.  
"Dad? I—" I turned around to face him but his chin was resting against his chest and his eyes were closed, a peaceful expression on his face. Whatever I was about to say was immediately forgotten and I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. I was empty; a shell. I sat in that same position for hours until the sky began to lighten into a sullen grey. The sun didn't show its face and the clouds were heavy with rain which began to fall gently at sunrise. That morning, I buried my sister and my father and myself. J'Rakha was gone, he'd died that night along with the rest of his family. The ideal ending to the story. This new shell of a man had only one sole purpose and that was to find and kill every single Thalmor involved in the massacre of Pesshef. For the next five years, I followed the bloody trail the Thalmor left behind until I reached Skyrim, home of the Nords and it was here I planned on ending each of their wretched lives and if the Divines deemed me worthy, perhaps my story would end here as well.


	4. Goldenglow Estate

Goldenglow Estate

"J, you will accompany Asha to Goldenglow Estate", Mercer said nonchalantly, picking at something beneath his fingernail. I looked back at J and shivered. I'd already attempted mild conversation and that went up in flames before it even started. He was overly rude and I was convinced he'd kill me at any chance he got. He'd threatened me before I'd walked into the Ragged Flagon and I'm sure he would go through with those threats if I caused him trouble.

The Ragged Flagon seemed to be an underground bar or tavern of some sort and looked run down as anything. The chairs threatened to shatter when touched and the entire place smelled of skeever blood. It was pungent enough to make my hair stand on end. J pushed me forward and around the small pool of water in the middle; most likely the source that caused the musty smell that made the air feel heavy and thick. Candles were scattered around every surface and were the only source of light throughout the entire cavern.

"WHAT?" J's voice echoed through the Cistern, a large room that was hidden behind a dresser with a secret door. I flinched at the sound, slightly embarrassed by his outburst. He obviously wanted nothing to do with me.

"No arguments. Go and observe. That's an order", Mercer clarified. I stood by sheepishly as J threw his hands into the air and growled deep in his throat.

"I am _not_ a babysitter", he spat back out.

"No, but you're one hell of an observer." And with that Mercer turned around and left the two of us alone. I stared at the stone floor and then shifted my eyes to J's. His face was hardened by years of hard work and turmoil. I could see it in his eyes. He looked at me and then shook his head; he radiated pure anger.

"I'm…sorry?" I managed to get out. He lifted his eyes to meet mine and turned away from me.

"We leave tomorrow at dawn", he answered in ta'agra.

"That's fine but-" He swung around and brought his face mere inches from mine. I could smell the mead on his breath, but I knew his mind wasn't close to being muddled by it.

"One wrong move and I'll kill you."

I believed him. He stormed out of the Cistern, leaving me inside alone and unsure of myself. I headed back into the Flagon and Brynjolf was waiting for me there. He waved me over to his table and gestured for me to sit down.

"Listen up, lass", he murmured, "Goldenglow is swarming with mercenaries and your job is to get in and out without being seen." I didn't say anything at first. The thought of having to go somewhere with J alone frightened me and Brynjolf read that in my eyes.

"J doesn't have to accompany me", I said, waiting patiently for Brynjolf's reply. He rubbed his face and smiled at me.

"Don't worry about him, lass. Just do the job and do it well. He's merely a fly on the wall." I nodded, still unconvinced.

"What do I have to do?" I asked.

"Goldenglow Estate is a bee farm. As a warning, I want you to burn down three of the beehives. The catch is that you have to do it without burning down the entire place. I don't care how you do it. Just get it done." I nodded in confirmation. I knew one spell that would be useful enough; a flame spell that I'd learned from an elderly mage in Whiterun. I found his daughter inside of a cave outside of the Hold and he had rewarded me with the spell. "Next, you need to go into the house. There is a safe somewhere…most likely in the basement. You'll have to pick all the locks unless you find Aringoth himself and steal the keys off of him. Maven, the client, would prefer that he remain alive, but if he's killed…nevermind. Let's just keep him alive."

"What if I'm seen?" I asked, my ear twitching back and forth.

"Kill them and hide the evidence", was all he said. He took another swig from his mead bottle and watched me silently. "I'd talk to Vex. She knows more about the place than I do. We sent her in a couple of weeks ago, but she couldn't get the job done." He pointed to the slender, blonde woman across the way. She stood by herself, leaning against the wall and sipping from her tankard. Her eyes shifted quickly across the things around her. I stood up and walked over to her, slightly intimidated by her eyes as they focused on me.

"What do you want?" She asked, her voice dripping with venom.

"What can you tell me about Goldenglow Estate?" Her eyes narrowed at me and I dropped mine to the floor out of embarrassment. Her darkened expression was unreadable, but swiftly changed to mock annoyance.

"That old shit hole? All I know is that Aringoth's room is on the second floor and heavily guarded by mercenaries…why do you want to know?", she smirked at my expression and then looked me up and down.

"Mercer assigned it to me." She simply smiled at that and rolled her eyes, cursing herself silently for not being able to complete a job.

"If you're going to be a part of the Guild, you better start wearing the garb. Talk to Tonilia. She'll have what you need." She pointed toward a small woman sitting at the bar. She looked to be a Redguard and her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. I smiled sheepishly at Vex and then left her to speak with Tonilia. She smiled as I approached.

"Ah, you must be Brynjolf's new protégé. Here, here. Let me take a look at you", she turned me around and sized me up, then led me over to a chest full of light armor that had a dark brown tint to it. She sifted through the stacks and pulled out boots, gloves, a hood and the rest of the armor. She held it up to me.

"This looks to be the right size. Go try it on. It's quite comfortable and lightweight. The shoes are practically soundless. I know how you Khajiits are and shoes. They're perfect", she smiled, dumping the clothes into my hands and pushing me towards the Cistern. "There are a couple of raised dividers, just change behind one of those and let me see."

"Yes, um…thank you", I smiled, walking back through the dresser and past the door that led to the Cistern. Tonilia gestured toward a divider that stood up near the resting area and I went behind it, taking off my dress and putting on my new armor. I stepped out from behind it and Tonilia smiled with delight.

"A perfect fit. You look wonderful. Now I hear you are attempting Goldenglow tomorrow with J'Rakha. You'll need your rest. Take my bed for the night", she smiled, gesturing toward one of the several cots that lined the wall.

"Thank you, Tonilia", I smiled and walked over to her bed and took a seat. She said J'Rakha. Who- That was his name. His real name was J'Rakha. A smirk spread across my face and I lay down against the pillow. His name meant young protector and I smiled at the thought. He seemed menacing, but perhaps he wasn't underneath all of that anger and silent hatred. I sat up quickly and reached into my pocket for my Bard's pin and clipped it on my left shoulder. Good luck. I rubbed my fingers over the small lute and laid back down in bed, mentally preparing myself for tomorrow.

I dreamed of Elsweyr. The forests were as green as ever and just across the way my mother was standing beside our small farm. She waved to me, beckoning me to come over, but something was holding me back. I turned and raised my eyes to meet a figure that resembled J. He glowered over me and smiled, then laughed a dangerous, hearty laugh before unsheathing his own sword.

"You've failed, Asha. Now it's time to meet your end", he growled, bringing the blade to rest on my throat. He drew it across slowly, but I felt no pain. The blood trickled down my front and began to pool around my feet. I sank to my knees and fainted, the vision of my mother screaming left in my mind and the sound of his rumbling laugh echoed.

I was shaken awake by someone and pulled from Tonilia's bed just as my eyes opened.

"It's time", came a low growl. I shivered at the sound and just the sight of him was enough to make me run and hide. His menacing voice from my dream repeated itself over and over again in my mind. _It was just a dream, Asha. Just a dream_. I thought to myself. I grabbed my hunting bow and quiver from the spot I laid it down and sheathed two steel daggers at my side. "Follow me."

I watched him climb up a ladder on the opposite side of the cistern and disappear through a small hole. I followed him quickly and watched him as he pulled down a chain to his right.

He was significantly taller than me. His fur was dark and his war paint was menacing. He had two vertical stripes across each eye and one that ran down his entire face. I'd seen his before and it was generally painted on warriors, people who served under the king of Elsweyr, Ri'Sada.

"Begin", was all he said to me. I looked around nervously and my tail flicked involuntarily. I headed toward the docks at the edge of the city and Goldenglow was barely visible across the small lake. I looked around and picked a boat, hopping inside of it and then checking around me for suspicious guards. We were alone.

"Get in", I gestured to him. His expression was judging but he made no comment, getting in silently. I picked up one of the oars and stuck it in the water, steering us toward the estate.

"What's that on your shoulder?" he asked, touching it with his finger. I felt uncomfortable with this but I made no move to stop him. "You've just gone against the thieve's guild dress code…and probably damaged the armor that has just been given to you."

"It's a good luck charm. I got it when I graduated the Bard's College in Solitude." He scoffed at it and turned away, looking out across the water silently.

"These mercenaries are ruthless. They'll cut you down without a second glance", he said under his breath. I looked at him and nodded, touching the daggers at my side. The house loomed into view and I paddled around back, hiding the canoe in some of the reeds. I hopped down into the water and J followed me silently. We waded up to the tall rocks and I climbed up them easily, flattening myself against the side of the wall as I waited for him. I looked to my right and then to my left; I noticed a small fenced area that contained six beehives and in order to get there I'd have to walk out in the open. I crept along the side of the wall and then ran across the path, ducking close to a wooden platform. I continued along the edge silently, looking around for the rumored mercenaries. One of them was patrolling the bridge and I pulled out my bow, notching an arrow. J's hand grabbed my shoulder and he turned me around to face him.

"If you kill him, you'll alert the others and with a shitty bow like that you won't do much damage. He'll run off and raise the alarm", he hissed at me in ta'agra. I was slightly hurt by his comment about my bow. I'd been using it ever since I came to Skyrim. It may not have been the best, but it had worked well for me.

"A shitty bow?" I asked him.

"Yes."

"All right…J'Rakha", I smirked and then shrugged nonchalantly, turning back around. The guard was leaving his post with his back to us and I ran across the path and over the bridge quickly without being seen. I ducked behind the closest beehive and J followed me. He leaned in to whisper something,

"Who told you?" he growled underneath his breath.

"Tonilia mentioned it", I said with as much satisfaction in my voice as I could muster. He took a deep breath and ground his teeth together.

"Well, you know what to do. Go on with it." He narrowed his eyes at me and watched as my hand ignited in flame and I shot bursts of fire into three of the hives. Bees buzzed furiously and I backed away, running around the edge of the fence and jumping into the water below, J jumping in after me. Voices could be heard from above and I sank low in the water. An alarm was being raised, but I didn't care much. My heart was racing and I couldn't keep a smile from my face. Part one of the job had been completed.

"Since you know my full name, what's yours? I know Asha isn't it", he grumbled at me. I raised an eyebrow and shook my head. I was slightly surprised that he was asking me a question…

"It's none of your concern", I mocked him, swimming away and ducking beneath the surface, heading back towards the original rocks I'd climbed up. I flattened myself against the wall again, ignoring my dripping clothes and I hurried around the outer edge of the wall until I found an unguarded door. I turned the handle, but it wouldn't budge.

"Locked…" I reached into my back pocket and inhaled sharply. No lockpicks. I'd forgotten them inside my dress pocket. How incredibly novice of me…I looked at J and he simply shrugged. I facepalmed myself dug around in all of the spare pockets. I found a single lockpick, brittle as ever. I stuck it in carefully and turned counterclockwise slowly until I heard a nearly silent click. I pushed the door open gently and the lock gave way, giving me access to the house.

I walked inside and crouched low to the ground, sniffing for any unfamiliar smells. I could hear the mercenaries talking in a room that was down the hall. I crept forward and then saw two men sitting in chairs in a larger room. I snuck past them easily and came upon an iron gate that led down to what I could only assume was the basement. I tried the door and it was locked. Since I was out of lockpicks, stealing the keys was my only other option. I looked to my left and saw a flight of stairs that led up to the second level and I dashed up them quickly.

The door wasn't locked and I crept forward…a guard stood at the end of the hall and I pulled out my bow, ignoring J's warning. I notched an arrow and shot the guard in the back of the neck. He fell instantly and I ran forward, pulling his body behind a bookshelf. I crept on down the hallway and it led me to a door that I assumed was occupied by Aringoth. Soft groans could be heard from coming inside and I reached out to touch the door handle. Locked.

"Damn it…" I whispered to myself.

"Problem?" J mocked me, raising an eyebrow. I shook my head at him. Two guards appeared at the end of the hall.

"No, but we do now." I tilted my head towards the approaching mercenaries and I stood up, drawing my two daggers and holding one in each hand. They spotted us.

"Hey! You aren't supposed to be here. TRESPAS-", he shouted. J had notched an arrow and shot him mid-sentence. I ran up to meet the other mercenary and I pounced on him, driving my daggers into his chest and twisting them until I heard his ribs crack. I pulled them out and wiped them on his robes. My eyes were narrow slits and adrenaline pumped through my veins. I went back to the door and tried it again. Still locked. What had I expected? Some miracle to open them for me while I butchered a Nord too courageous for his own good?

"Do you have any lockpicks?" I asked him. He stared at me and shrugged.

"Maybe", he answered. He seemed different than before…less menacing. I think he was starting to accept me. "Tell me your real name." I narrowed my eyes at him hatefully and sighed.

"Ashiramayaneth", I told him.

"Helluva name…" I nodded. It meant Singing Constellation. My mother was a Bard and she expected me to be one too. That's why she sent me to Skyrim. He handed me a couple of lockpicks and I lodged one into the lock, turning it this way and that until it clicked open. I walked inside and took a glance around. A few heavy coin purses were perched on a table nearby and entire shelf was stocked with Alto Wine. I took a few hesitant steps forward and a figure in the corner caught my eye. He looked sickly and pale. This must be Aringoth.

"I knew you'd come", he grunted, shifting around to face me.

"I'm only here for the keys. Give them to me", I commanded him. He chuckled to himself and it turned into a rough cough.

"No, Khajiit. I can't give them to you", he smiled. His teeth were yellow and very unhealthy. A couple of the ones in the front had already fallen out and it made him look even mangier than he did already.

"Then I'll have to take them from you…" J took the back of my arm and jerked me toward him.

"Maven wants him alive…" he growled at me.

"Maven can't always get what she wants, can she?" I hissed back. I walked over to Aringoth and picked him up, cutting his throat with one of my daggers. I dropped his lifeless body and began searching it for the keys. There was one to the cellar door and then another to the safe. J was next to the shelf of Alto Wine and he picked up a bottle, taking a long swig. I narrowed my eyes at him…that wasn't necessary. I took the coin purses, pocketed the keys and then stepped over Aringoth's body, J following in my footsteps. I noticed a bow in the corner. It looked to be an Orcish bow. I walked over to it and picked it up. It was much better than my own. I took my hunting bow from my back and replaced it with the Orcish bow, putting it over my shoulders. I walked from the room and hurriedly past the dead guards that lined the hallway to the stairs. I walked down them as silently as I could and glanced down the hallway. No guards in sight. I stuck the key in the iron gate and it swung inward with ease. I climbed down the ladder and opened another set of double doors that led down to the basement.

It smelled like the Ragged Flagon and my nose wrinkled as it filled my nostrils. I walked on quietly, going around some barrels and into another passage. A guard was sitting in a chair and I didn't waste time notching an arrow and taking him out. A little further beyond that was another ladder that led down to a lower level and I descended it quickly. The floor was lined with a metallic, pink and orange liquid and I walked across it lightly and I noticed the trip wire too late. Three glass jugs fell to the floor and ignited the liquid.

"Run J!" I shouted at him, running past all three jugs as they hit the floor. I could feel the flames licking at my fur, but I didn't let it stop me until I reached the end of the passage that led into a room with a desk and safe. I breathed heavily and went down on one knee.

"Renrij!" He shouted at me, throwing his hands in the air. "What the fuck is WRONG with you? Tread lightly. Be aware. Was that not bored into our heads as cubs? Goddamnit." Renrij was the word for scum in ta'agra. I felt ashamed of myself.

"The safe is right there. I'll just get the stuff out and we can escape through there…", I pointed to the safe and then to a hole in the floor of one of the cells. A sewer. I walked up to the safe and stuck the key in, grabbing the paperwork and putting it in my pocket along with 130 gold septims. I opened the cell door that led to the sewer and hopped down in it, instantly surrounded by darkness. The sound of skeevers growling bounced off the walls. I flattened myself against the wall and my breath became short and my head began to feel much lighter. I didn't do well in dimly lit, tight spaces. The walls were a mere three feet apart and I backed into the wall, shaking my head while J just stared at me, waiting for me to move. I couldn't. The memory of receiving my Talons panned across my vision. I was by myself in a dungeon, in complete darkness and the growls of draugrs echoed across the walls repeatedly. My breath caught in my throat and silent tears streamed down my face as I tried to keep from screaming. If I made any noise whatsoever I would alert them and surely meet the end to myself and my wit.

He gripped my forearm and pulled me through the tunnels. My eyes remained fixed on nothing; the memory taking over and panic setting in. I pulled in the opposite direction of the way he was going and he stopped and stared at me. I wasn't looking at him anymore, but something beyond him. It wasn't real, but behind my eyes the thought of it gripped my entire core.

"What the hell…" he whispered more to himself than to me. I only whimpered.

"No, don't make me go forward. Please, no. R'Vasha's dead. The draugr killed him", I whispered, shaking my head and trying to pry myself loose.

"R'Vasha…"

"Yes, he's gone. They slit his throat as I watched, but they didn't see me. No, they didn't see me. I was lucky to get out."

"Get out from where…"

"They're coming", I whispered, biting my knuckle. Tears fell from my eyes and I felt like a cub again. J gripped my shoulders and shook me hard. I blinked several times and realized where I was: in the sewer at Goldenglow…not in the several caves that lined the mountains outside of Senchal. A high pitched growl sounded from my left and I jumped at the noise. He stared at me with wary eyes and I made no effort to explain myself.

"Skeevers…" He said and stepped ahead of me and I followed him through the passage until we reached another hole in the floor. He dropped through it first and I followed him hesitantly. The memory shook my memory and caused me to jump at any sound. Straight ahead was another ladder and it led up and out of the sewers. I thanked the Eight I didn't have to stay down there longer. The darkness and the constant thought of skeevers lurking in the darkness scared me more than J did.


	5. I Hate Emotional Strangers

Hi guyssssss. Been a while right. Actually I've had this part written for…a REALLY long time, don't ask why I waited until now to submit. Enjoy and review PLEAAAAAASE.

Christine/J

* * *

We slipped out just as quickly as we slipped inside and within minutes, we were back at the Cistern. Well, I was back at the Cistern. I wasn't completely sure about Asha. Her body was here but I was convinced she'd left her mind somewhere else. All this talk about draugr and talons and…R'Vasha? She stood beside me chewing her lip, her expression still full of unspoken worry and she constantly shifted from one foot to another. Her inability to keep still was enough to drive _me _insane.  
"Mercer!" I barked, unwilling to wait any longer but he waved me away without even looking up. Asha jumped slightly beside me and I stared at the ceiling and collected my wits. I didn't know what it was about her that rubbed me the wrong way so _badly_. Mercer had at least five books open on his desk and a massive map pinned up on the wall; it looked like he was planning one hell of a heist. But I had an agenda and I didn't care about his. I snatched our find from Asha's hand and I marched over to Mercer's desk and slammed the Goldenglow Estate Bill of Sale on his desk with a venomous snarl. "You're welcome." Mercer took the note from his desk and examined it closer. His eyes narrowed and he immediately yelled for Brynjolf,  
"Brynjolf! C'mere!" He yelled and Brynjolf jogged over to meet us, his face brightening.  
"Back already, J? She must've done well." He said, beaming and no doubt congratulating himself on finding such a great "asset". My ear twitched slightly and I shrugged a shoulder,  
"A few stupid mistakes here and there, one bad miscalculation resulting in a slightly singed tail—" I waved my tail in the air for emphasis. Now it sported a long, half healed cut and a singed end. Brynjolf winced slightly as if apologizing. "Other than that, she was fine." Brynjolf seemed surprised by my evaluation. I may be bitter and an asshole 100% of the time but I gave honest evaluations. Nobody wanted to be part of a half assed organization.  
"So are you saying she should be allowed in?" Brynjolf asked and I snorted,  
"I didn't say that." He gave me a questioning look and I crossed my arms over my chest and watched Asha. She still stood at the center of the Cistern, staring at her hands and mumbling to herself. I blinked suddenly, _mumbling_ to herself? I turned my ears toward her, listening to the rushed words that poured out of her mouth.  
_"You're not there anymore, you're safe Asha, calm down. R'Vasha…"_ She stopped for a moment and her face fell slightly, _"R'Vasha's gone…"_ She whispered softly and she suddenly looked up, meeting my eyes. I didn't bother looking away and stared back blankly.  
"I wouldn't call her…mentally stable." I muttered and Brynjolf shot me a confused look,  
"What?" His voice was skeptical and I nodded towards Asha who had already broken eye contact.  
"She's not normal." I growled, shifting my ears back and narrowing my eyes. Brynjolf snorted out of disbelief,  
"Neither are you and you're one of the best I've ever seen." I snapped my jaws in Brynjolf's direction and he laughed light heartedly, "She stays." He stated with finality and I bristled angrily.  
"Fine. But when she fucks up don't complain to me." I snapped and Brynjolf waved his hand dismissively,  
"She'll do fine." He waved Asha over and she quickly scampered over with her head low and her tail brushing the ground. Her humbleness was just another addition to my endless list of irritations.  
"Yes?" She murmured and Brynjolf clasped her by the shoulders,  
"J informs me you performed admirably." Asha blinked rapidly, clearly surprised.  
"O-Oh. Well, um,-" She gave me a quick look which I pointedly ignored before turning back to Brynjolf. "It was nothing, really. J helped too." I growled softly at the mention of my name. All I did was drag her back to the Cistern.  
"You give him too much credit." Mercer muttered and I felt the hairs along my neck and arms stand on end. Asha laughed nervously,  
"No, really, he—"  
"Bottom line is, you're in." Mercer cut in, not interested in what she had to say.  
"Well done, lass." Brynjolf smiled, patting Asha on the back and I spat softly, at this rate she'd get used to being praised.  
"Right, well, I've got another job for you." Mercer cut in, waving the bill of sales in his hand. "J, pay attention." He growled and I grudgingly turned around to listen. "Whoever signed this," He bent down and circled a name with his quill and handed the paper to Asha. "Has information about this sale." He nodded toward me and Asha, "I need that information." I flicked my tail casually, accidentally brushing it against Asha's and she stiffened slightly.  
"Sorry." I muttered, jerking my tail away. I turned back to Mercer and cleared my throat, "What does this have to do with me?" Mercer gave me a smug smile and cracked his knuckles,  
"Why because _you're _the one taking her to Gulum-Ei." I laughed dryly and shook my head slowly,  
"Not again..." I growled softly and Mercer crossed his arms over his chest and pouted mockingly,  
"Oh but I thought you'd love to go since she's your own kind." I could feel the snarl in my chest before I could even hear it and I rounded on Mercer all teeth and claws.  
"Just because she's _my kind _doesn't mean shit." I snarled, shoving Mercer against a wall. The Cistern suddenly grew uncomfortably quiet and the other Guild members were watching us nervously, waiting for one of us to do something. I narrowed my eyes into thin slits and lashed my tail furiously, I was really getting sick of Mercer's attitude.  
"Let's work something out, yes?" Brynjolf said, pulling me back by the arm. I snatched my arm out of his hand and pushed him back angrily.  
"If it doesn't involve his heart in my hands, I'm not interested." I snapped, still glaring at Mercer. He brushed the dust off his shoulders nonchalantly and gave me a look that set my blood on fire.  
"You always were wound tight." Mercer mumbled, patting me on the shoulder. He stepped around me and I heard his footfalls come to a stop behind me, "Tough childhood?" He murmured mockingly and just loud enough for me to hear. Brynjolf suddenly sprang between us before I had time to react and shoved me toward the door to the Ragged Flagon.  
"We'll just be going, then." Brynjolf muttered, motioning for Asha to follow and she quickly brought up the r ear. "That went well." He mumbled, still shoving me along and ushering Asha in through the door before slamming it shut behind me. I sighed warily and Brynjolf thumped me companionably on the back, "You should get out for a while." He murmured so only I could hear and handed me an Amulet of Mara. I twitched my ears to catch his words and I snorted irritably, I wasn't even angry. Dead wasn't strong enough a word to describe my emotional state. "Return this and take the girl with you while you're at it." He whispered, handing me an Amulet of Mara and patting me again. I glared at him out of the corner of my eye,  
"The point of getting away is to _get. Away._" I hissed causing Asha to shift her ears toward us. We made eye contact and she hastily glanced away, pretending to be engaged with something else. "I'd sooner drive a stake through my own heart." I muttered and Brynjolf ignored me and waved Asha over.  
"You two need some time off so go on, get outta here." He pushed us both back through the Cistern and up the ladder despite my vehement refusal as well as Asha's. "And don't think about coming back here until both of you are _well_ acquainted." He closed the trapdoor behind us and I swore loudly. "And Asha, I give you full permission to hurt him if he doesn't cooperate." Brynjolf added, jerking the door open one last time before disappearing. I gave Asha a look silently challenging her to try anything and she only laughed nervously.  
"So…where—" She began and I interrupted,  
"I want a drink." I growled and stalked away, secretly hoping she wouldn't follow but I guess she took Brynjolf seriously and followed close behind. I flicked an ear agitatedly and slowly made my way to The Bee and Barb. I had a slight craving for the Skooma served back home but I didn't exactly have a home to go back to. I smiled crossly, five years later and I _still _got homesick.

I shoved the door open to The Bee and Barb and the scent of strong Mead hit me in the face and I sighed contentedly. I didn't bother holding the door open for Asha and went ahead and slipped into a lone chair at the bar. Asha stood awkwardly beside me, chewing her lip and obviously unsure of what to do.  
"Well are you just gonna stand there like a damn fool or are you gonna pull up a chair?" I muttered with a low growl. She gave me a sheepish smile and dragged another bar stool to the table and sank into it beside me. She leaned against the table and propped her head in a hand and gave me a lopsided smile,  
"Your act doesn't fool me y'know." She said in a very matter-of-fact tone. I ignored her and got the bartender's attention,  
"Two Cliff Racers." I mumbled gruffly. I leaned my elbows on the table and sighed into my hands, my eyes were closed but I could feel Asha's gaze still boring into the sides of my face.  
"You act all tough and hateful on the outside but inside," She patted herself on the chest with a resolute smile, "I believe there's a heart buried deep down in there somewhere." I opened my eyes and found my two Cliff Racers in front of me. I grabbed one and downed it in a single gulp and I took the other and stared into the cup. It was an orangey gold in color, nice to look at. I swirled it around in the cup for a while before drinking it all just like the last one. Unlike its appearance, Cliff Racers had a sting and a burn to it unlike any other and it strangely reminded me of T'Zel. I set the cup down and thought about what Asha had just said. I mulled it over in my mind and really let it sink in but nothing stirred inside. I was just as numb, just as angry as I'd been for five years. I was stuck in retrograde.  
"Woman's entitled to her own opinions." I murmured, gesturing for the bartender to fill my two cups again. Asha gave me an incredulous stare and shifted in her seat.  
"What did I do?" She asked, throwing a hand in the air. "Did I say something? Is-Is it the way I dress?" She glanced down at herself and stared back at me but I wasn't interested enough to meet her eyes. "Why do you hate me so much?" She exclaimed and I chuckled dryly,  
"You ask too many questions." I growled, finishing another round of Cliff Racers. She sighed and rubbed her temples warily,  
"Fine but if we're going to be working together then at least tell me a _little _about yourself." I thought about her request for a moment and decided answering her questions would be the quickest way to shut her up. I turned in my chair to face her and fixed her under my cool gaze,  
"What do you want to know?" I asked, tapping the wood rhythmically with a claw. She glanced up at me, surprised no doubt. Her once frustrated expression faded and she blinked rapidly,  
"Oh—ok, well, obviously you're an Elsweyr native," She gestured at the talons in my ears, "Where are you from?" I groaned inwardly, I regretted this already. I turned back to the table and played idly with the cup in front of me, turning it this way and that and praying that _maybe _she'd just drop the subject.  
"Well?" She prodded and I sighed inaudibly, maintaining the same stoic expression I'd kept up for years.  
"Does it matter? It's gone now." I muttered, knocking the cup on its side. It rolled in a tight circle and I watched it absently as the never ceasing memories flicked across my eyelids. I could recall every single detail from that night perfectly, from the tangy Skooma on my tongue to the scent of burning fur and the emptiness that followed. I could remember the pained smile in my fathers words and the affection in my mother's dying fingertips. The guilt in being away for so long was still as fresh as ever and the self loathing grew in tiny increments everyday and I couldn't seem to stop. Asha squirmed in her chair and turned back to the table with an irritated click of her tongue. She continued to mumble something about stubborn assholes but I wasn't really paying attention.  
"I'm from Pesshef." I finally mumbled, ordering another round of Cliff Racers. Asha instantly turned around to face me, her eyes wide and her mouth open,  
"What? Pesshef? But I'd heard there were no survi—" She stopped in the middle of her sentence, realizing what she was saying and I scoffed bitterly, gulping down a glass. "By the Eigh—I'm _so _sorry." She murmured hurriedly, trying to catch my gaze but I was too focused on my memories to really notice. My fingers absently played with the amulet I wore around my neck and I stared blankly into the fire. I _hated _fire. "How'd you…well, survive?" Asha asked cautiously as if the question was supposed to offend me.  
"A better question is why." I muttered half to myself and half to Asha. I drank my remaining glass and blinked slowly, how many glasses was this? 3? 4? 8? I shrugged uncaringly and asked for another few glasses; three this time. The bartender was a little more than irritated with me.  
"You don't believe you should be here?" Asha asked, catching me off guard. Was she still thinking about that? I turned to face her,  
"I don't know, do you?" I challenged and she gave me a confused look. "R'Vasha?" I prodded and her face fell instantly. She rubbed her arms as if she was cold and stared at the f loor, I could hardly hear her next few words.  
"I don't talk about that." She whispered almost inaudibly, fingering a talon in her ear. I snorted disbelievingly, and she expected me to share my life story.  
"Of _course _you don't." I muttered, swallowing more of the amber liquid.

We remained silent for a while, listening to the others talk about rising prices and dying crops and other such petty concerns. I tossed the barkeeper a hefty bag of coins, that should more than cover the number of drinks I had and I slowly rose from my seat only to be stopped by Asha.  
"Do you always drink like this?" Her tone was accusing and her eyes were narrow. Such a fast mood change.  
"No." I answered curtly and the accusing gleam in her eyes vanished. "I usually drink more." I added coolly with a smile that didn't reach my eyes. She scowled lightly and I turned to leave,  
"I still have a few questions." She called after me and I suppressed the urge to just leave. I _did _offer to explain myself. Minimally.  
"Walk with me." I commanded, already walking out the door. The barkeeper bid us both farewell and I nodded in return, allowing the door to swing shut behind us. I turned around and found Asha blocking my path, arms folded and one foot planted squarely in front of the other. I cocked an eyebrow in amusement, I could practically see the question marks in her eyes.  
"Why did you leave Elsweyr?" Her question came out rushed as if she'd said the wrong thing. I raised my other eyebrow and easily brushed her aside much to her dismay. So much for trying the 'tough girl' act.  
"Wouldn't you leave after seeing your entire family get slaughtered?" I growled impassively. I readjusted the bow I carried on my back and glanced over my shoulder, Asha still stood in front of The Bee and Barb, her face a mask of horror and sadness. Frankly, it was irritating. I'd much rather she kept her feelings to herself. She quickly jogged across the bridge and came to a stop beside me. Her eyes were downcast and her tail dragged,  
"I'm so—"  
"I don't talk about that." I hissed imitating her previous outburst and stopping her mid sentence. She kept her secrets and I kept mine. Not exactly a secret anymore but why bore her with the details? I lashed my tail from side to side and continued my slow trek to the Temple of Mara. She fell into step beside me, taking two steps for every one of mine. Her tail languidly weaved and bobbed behind her, occasionally bumping mine and I held back any biting remarks that threatened to surface. I couldn't really explain my strange reservation towards her, maybe it was the alcohol.  
"Brynjolf mentioned you'd travelled a lot; where'd you go?" Her tone reverted back to its natural lightheartedness and I felt slightly relieved; I hated talking about that night.  
"There isn't a province in Tamriel I haven't seen." I stated simply and Asha gasped beside me and gave me a thrilled smile. She began gushing about her own plans to travel and she pestered me with endless questions about the different provinces of Tamriel which I merely nodded or shook my head to. This often didn't even answer her questions but she seemed satisfied with my responses.  
"So why Skyrim?" She suddenly asked, catching me off guard. The familiar cold impassiveness seeped back into my bones and I retreated behind the impenetrable wall I'd built around myself. Semi-impenetrable now that I thought about it.  
"Reasons." I answered, my voice was quiet but heavy and Asha could sense it. She was encroaching on forbidden territory again.  
"Like…?" Her tone was guarded but her attempts at hiding the underlying curiosity was unsuccessful.  
"You're wasting your questions." I breathed coldly and Asha's mouth closed with a sharp click of her teeth and we lapsed into a silence once again. We passed the Black Briar Mansion to our left and I couldn't hide the scowl that crossed my face; Gods I hated Maven.  
"What's she like?" Asha suddenly piped up, pausing at the front doors of the mansion. She reached out and ran her fingers over the ridiculously ornate door handle and I had half a mind to just take the damn thing and have it fenced but she was the only reason the Guild still existed today. I grumbled sourly, trying not to think about the gold that single handle was worth and answered Asha's question.  
"A bitch." I muttered, plain and simple She gave me a surprised look and stifled a small laugh. "Haven't you heard her talk on the streets?" I asked with a distasteful wrinkle of my nose. Asha laughed again and we departed from the Black Briar's front step and ascended a set of wide stone stairs to the Temple of Mara. Asha said nothing as we entered but I could only imagine the questions racing through her mind. What the hell did a Khajiit like me want with the Goddess of Love?

Inside, the air was cool and everything felt…holy. Candles burned on almost every flat surface and several pews were lined up in the center with a small podium at the front and a long altar with at statue of Mara stood just behind the podium. The building was empty save for a few scattered Nords seated at the pews with their heads bowed in prayer and their rosaries in their hands; not a single priest or priestess was in sight.  
"Ah, J'Rakha! How nice it is to see you again, friend." A priest exclaimed as he came out of a small room at the back. He was dressed in mustard yellow robes with his hood pulled low over his face but I didn't need to see his face to know who it was.  
"Marumal." I growled, nodding once. I extracted Brynjolf's Amulet of Mara from inside the folds of my armor and I distinctly took note of Asha's widening eyes. I shot her a warning glare, silencing her instantly but I hadn't given much consideration to Marumal's loud mouth.  
"Oh! Do you two wish to get married? I can arrange the cere—"  
"Stop. Talking." I snarled, not bothering to hide the agitation and anger in my voice. Marumal stumbled backwards, instinctively shielding his face. He wasn't expecting that kind of a reaction and neither was Asha. If Khajiit were able to blush then Asha was doing it perfectly.  
"Oh—Oh, I'm so sorry. Why are you here, then?" The priest stammered and I shoved Brynjolf's Amulet into his hands,  
"Brynjolf sends his regards." I growled with a vicious gleam in my eye and Marumal laughed nervously.  
"What's wrong with it? Is it the wrong size?" He laughed feebly at his own joke and I flicked an ear out of disinterest. I turned and left without so much as a goodbye but Asha must've felt bad and apologized on my behalf and bid the shaken priest farewell before bounding after me.  
"Have you always been this cold?" She muttered crossly with a roll of her eyes. I didn't stop and kept up a brisk pace,  
"Yes." I hissed smoothly and she abruptly stopped and sighed out of exasperation,  
"And I thought we were getting somewhere." She mumbled and that caused me to freeze in my tracks and spin around.  
"Getting somewhere? _Getting_. Somewhere?" I repeated in disbelief. She tipped her chin up in defiance and pinned her ears back slightly,  
"You're a hard man to like, J'Rakha." She growled shakily. I laughed dryly and fixed her under my penetrating gaze,  
"You don't have to _like _me." I spat, almost disgusted. Her eyes narrowed and the fur on her tail seemed to stand on end,  
"I've never met anyone like you—you're hateful, angry, _heartless_—" I advanced on her quickly until we stood barely inches apart. I towered over her easily and I could hear her heart race through her thin skin and the smell of fear was pungent in the air.  
"Tell me something I _don't _know." I snarled in a threateningly soft voice. Asha said nothing and I turned back around, planning to leave.  
"Unfeeling bastard." She whispered so softly I almost didn't catch what she was saying. It was like she was trying to push me over the edge. I reeled back around, ears pinned flat against my skull and eyes narrowed into thin slits.  
"What did you expect? R'Vasha reincarnate?" I snarled, my voice still dangerously quiet. She seemed taken aback by my mention of R'Vasha and horribly insulted at the same time.  
"You didn't know him." She glowered, tail lashing angrily behind her. I took a step toward her and bared my fangs,  
"What's there to know? He's dead." I snapped and Asha glared at me hatefully,  
"Do _not _talk about R'Vasha." She growled again but I was too heated to stop.  
"Was he just a friend? Or more than that? Did you _love _him?" I hissed tauntingly, inching closer all the while. I could still see the hate in her eyes but it had faded considerably and was instead replaced by an irrevocable sadness.  
"Yes." She whispered, her eyes hooded and downcast. Her answer honestly surprised me but I didn't feel an ounce of empathy. Not for her, not for anyone.  
"Sorry, princess. Won't find any of that here." I growled a deep rumbling growl that bubbled in my chest and poured out of my mouth. It tasted like poison an d its effects were clear in Asha. I turned tail and disappeared before the first of her tears dropped and I slipped out of Riften. I could come back after a few days, but for now, Riften was the last place I wanted to be.


	6. Asha's Loss

**NEEDLESS TO SAY ITS BEEN QUITE A LONG TIME SINCE WE'VE UPDATED AND I APOLOGIZE. For all of you who were wondering, yes we are both still alive and thriving. Skyrim has been out for a while and we've both played it so many times...its...excessive. We're just tired of the game, this story is a little strenuous to write now and...it's hard. We love J and Asha. We ship them hard. It's just our love of the game has dwindled...a lot and we've shifted our love to Mass Effect *GASP* But multiplayer online is fun and if you haven't tried it, you should. I strongly recommend it. Anyway, here is Asha's next part. I hope you enjoy. Leave Reviews 3 3 3**

I watched as J's tail disappeared into the darkness and the unwanted tears fell instantly. How dare he mention R'Vasha? How dare he use that against me? He had no right. He admitted he was a cruel, unfeeling bastard. I pushed the thoughts of R'Vasha and J as far from my mind as possible, turning through the narrow alley that led to the back entrance of the Cistern. I descended the ladder and steps quickly, stumbling past Brynjolf and into the Flagon. I ordered a drink from the bar immediately and took the bottle in two, long swigs. I looked up to my right and a bald man was seated at a table by himself, surveying the people in the surrounding area. Brynjolf had pointed him out to me before.

Delvin Mallory sat by himself in a corner and I walked up to him, desperate for a job to get me out of Riften. Brynjolf had mentioned that Delvin and Vex were in charge of divvying up jobs among the Guild.

"Aye", he belched and gave me a crooked smile. "I've never seen you around here before. Are you one of J's-"

"No, Brynjolf recruited me", I cut him off before he could finish that sentence. I didn't want to be associated with him anymore.

"Whoa now. The kitty's got claws", he smirked and took a sip of his fire brandy. I was going to have to discuss this next job with Mercer. I wouldn't be travelling with him; either I was going alone or Mercer could find someone else to do it. Delvin smiled at me again. I scowled at him with disgust.

"So you're looking for a job then, mate?" He asked. I simply nodded, staring at him unblinking.

"I'll take anything. Preferably something far", I nodded again at my own statement, growing happier with the thought of leaving.

"I've got a job in Windhelm…bedlam. If you're interested?" he replied, sizing me up. Windhelm…it was north of here; not as far as I wanted, but it was better than nothing.

"I'm interested", I took the sheet of paper he held out to me and read through it quickly. _Steal enough goods from Windhelm to equate to five hundred gold septims. _I nodded in affirmation and folded the piece of paper, shoving it into my back pocket.

"Why five hundred?" I asked him. He looked forward and his eyebrow creased.

"I'm not quite sure…Just for the pure sake of money. If you get caught, mate, the jig is up. You go to prison and when you get back here…Oh, ho ho. You won't want to show your face around here for awhile", he chuckled to himself. "Now get out."

I grabbed my pack and sifted through it, making sure I had anything I'd need while I was gone. I didn't plan on coming back for a week. Making my way through Riften, I glared at the spot where J and I stood less than an hour before and kept on walking. I hopped into the carriage after exiting the city and demanded to be taken to Windhelm.

"But, miss, I've already closed down for the night. Come back to me in the morning and I'll be glad to take you-" I handed him fifty gold septims and demanded him to take me to Windhelm for the second time. He stared at the pile of gold in his hands and smiled at me. "I guess…I can make an exception." He whistled quietly and held the reins in his hands, telling his horse to wake up. I sat there thinking of home, family, R'Vasha…and finally my thoughts landed on J. His face clouded my vision and I felt disgusted at his sudden appearance there. What was wrong with him…He must have known it would hurt me, but I doubt he knew how much. R'Vasha was my…there wasn't a word to describe him. He was my companion, my lover…my only friend in Senchal. We were trained together as young cubs, growing ranks together and even given the honor of performing our task for our talons together. We were quite honestly inseparable from studenthood.

It was just before I decided to leave Elsweyr; after witnessing R'Vasha's death, my mother forced me to leave Elsweyr and join the Bard's College in Solitude. I guess it was her attempt to save my own sanity.

"Ashira, get out. I can't see you like this anymore. You...you're depressed and I want you to leave. Please...for my sake. Let me imagine you can be happy again, daughter", she said to me, while hugging me and rubbing my shoulder. Her final words rang in my mind and that same morning I left.

R'Vasha and I were both twenty years of age and eligible to receive our Task. The entire town had gathered around the entrance to a single cave outside of Senchal and were cheering, playing music and waiting for us to begin. The High Priest, S'Sada, stepped up to his podium and smiled, waving his hand across the crowd and silencing them instantly. We stood next to him, side by side, on top of an old wooden stage.

"Good morning", he bellowed. The town raised their hands in silence in response to his greeting. "We are assembled here today to witness a great event. These two, very skilled khajiits are about to embark on a quest that will change the course of their lives forever." He paused for effect.

"The Task of the Talons has been a part of Khajiit society for centuries and the tradition and honor has been passed down from generation to generation, finally reaching the generation of R'Vasha Baadar and Ashiramayaneth…" He paused at the length of my name and sighed while I tried my best to keep up my smile. My mother looked at me and tears had formed wet streaks through the fur on her face. She had begged me for hours beforehand not to participate in the Task, but I felt obligated. My father had received his and I knew it would mean that much more to him if only one of his daughter's had received them as well. I looked at my father and he stood steadfast, nodding curtly at me.

"…Ma'dat. Their task is to successfully navigate this cave together, fighting or avoiding any danger that may come their way. At the end of their journey, they are to retrieve a golden circlet. Last year's competitor's placed the circlet deep within this cave and in order to receive their reward, they must retrieve it and return it to us. When either or both of them immerge they will be awarded with their talons immediately, whether together or apart." He turned to look at R'Vasha and I, staring into both of our eyes deeply.

"If either of you are to fall at the hand of an enemy during your Task, you must keep on. There is no turning back. Whether together or apart you must finish or perish while trying", he shuffled the papers on his podium and clapped his hands. "Without further ado, let our competitor's begin."

R'Vasha and I were escorted to separate tents where we were given armor, weapon's and one last chance to see our families. Two, young khajiit women outfitted me in leather armor and handed me two steel daggers, one of them glowing with an iridescent blue light. It had been enchanted and probably cost a fortune. I tied them both at my waist and waited for my family to appear through the tent entrance. My mother was the first inside, shoving her way past the two khajiit women and throwing herself into my arms.

"My baby…my poor baby", she wailed, sobbing into my shoulder.

"Mother, I…" I wrapped my arms around her tightly. "I'll be all right. I promise. I have R'Vasha at my side." The nervousness and fear had yet to shake me; it was slightly unsettling to feel so calm in the moment. My mother stepped to the side and my two sisters came into view. Inerri was asleep on my father's shoulder and Kiseen stood at his side. She stepped forward and pulled me into a tight hug.

"You'll do great", she whispered into my ear. Her arms were shaking slightly as she wrapped them around me and I smiled to her half-heartedly.

"Kiseen, you're the best older sister anyone could ask for", I pulled her into another hug. And finally it was my father's turn. His expression was still stern. He handed a sleeping Inerri off to my mother and she stroked my baby sister on the back of the head. She was only two years old…she had no idea what was going on. My father put his hands on my shoulders and bent down to meet my eyes.

"Keep your head up, eyes on a swivel. I have complete faith in you Ashira", he pulled me into a hug and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Only my father called me Ashira. "You're my warrior daughter", he whispered into my ear.

"How will you explain my disappearance to Inerri if I…" I couldn't even finish my own sentence. My breath caught in my throat.

"I don't plan on that happening", he answered me with a sad smile. I nodded and whispered last goodbyes to them as they exited the tent. I was again escorted back in front of the crowd of people gathered and R'Vasha stood there waiting for me, his hand extended. I took it immediately and raised it high in the air. The crowd roared and clapped for us. S'Sada stood at his podium and waved his hands, but nothing he did silenced the crowd.

"You may now enter the cave", he barked at us. The entrance was wide and I took my first steps toward it, R'Vasha directly behind me. I was immediately engulfed by complete darkness and I pressed on until we reached the first torch. A sign we had made it an eighth of the way through. We hadn't met any enemies yet, but time still ticked on painfully slow as we made our way through the cave.

"Asha?" I turned around quickly and searched R'Vasha's face, afraid of some unseen danger ahead.

"Yes?" He chuckled nervously and looked down at his feet.

"I've been meaning to tell you this for…an impossibly long amount of time", he took my hand in his.

"R'Vasha this isn't the-"

"It's as good a time as any, Asha", he sighed and traced a circle on the back of my hand. "You will never know how much our friendship means to me. I…"

"R'Vasha, I will never be able to describe our friendship with words. I wouldn't want anyone else at my side in this moment, save my father. Because he knows what he's doing", I laughed nervously and he chuckled along with me. We both grew silent too soon.

"I love you", he whispered. I looked at him with wide eyes and a smile spread across my face.

"I love you too, R'Vasha." A fluttery feeling gripped my insides and we pressed on in silence. We came across two or three draugr, but took care of them easily. Things only started going wrong when…

"I think I hear something", R'Vasha mumbled, "It sounds like it's just ahead." We were standing on a stone catwalk that overlooked a room below. Several draugr were asleep in their tombs and a doorway ahead must have led down to the room. He pushed past me and ran forward and I followed in suit. I heard his footsteps descend a flight of stairs and a growl ripped through the silence behind me. I whipped around and a frosty eyed draugr stood two paces away with his sword raised eagerly. My eyes widened out of fear and adrenaline pumped through my veins. I quickly dove past him.

I pulled out my own daggers and brought them up just in time to stop his swing. He brought his sword up again and I used the time between strikes to give him two quick jabs to the ribs, enough to send him a couple of steps backwards. Dirty blood poured from his new wounds, yet he raised his weapon again. I managed to get in a couple more jabs before looking down and seeing R'Vasha in the middle of swarm of at least five draugr, fighting them off alone. The draugr in front of me swung his sword from right to left horizontally and I jumped back, missing me by inches. I lunged forward, shoving one of my daggers into its chest and skull, twisting them with all my might. I released the dagger that I lodged into its chest cavity and brought my claws to its throat, ripping out remains furiously, digging through his body like a child unwrapping gifts on their birthday. I stood up, wreaking of draugr blood and stumbled down the stairs, reaching the doorway and coming to an immediate halt; a scream stuck in my throat and I backed up against the wall with my hand over my mouth.

R'Vasha lay in a bloody pile in the center of the room. His face was twisted into an expression that completely exemplified extreme pain. I heard him groan and suck in a breath, holding his middle and reaching out to me. I took a couple of steps forward, but he shook his head.

"I love you", he mouthed. Tears streamed down my face as I watched the life seep from his eyes and into the blood puddle surrounding him on the floor. I sank to my knees and shook my head. If I'd only been there for him, if I'd run ahead with him he might still be alive. It was my fault he was dead. I wasn't there for him. I waited for a long time as the draugr drifted back into their lifeless state.

I crept across the stone floor nervously and knelt by his body, gathering it into my arms. He groaned softly and opened his eyes to meet mine. They were wet with tears.

"R'Vasha?" I whispered to him.

"Ash…" was all that escaped from his mouth as the light in his eyes faded to black. I knew he was dead, but perhaps if I tried to wake him, we'd escape this nightmare. "Please…" The tears began to flow again and I hugged his body tightly to me, sobbing silently. I pulled back his leather armor at his neck and took off his silver amulet and tied it around my own neck. I said a silent prayer over his body and stood up, pressing on through the tunnels. _Forgive me, R'Vasha. _I whispered to myself as I left his body to rot. The priest's words echoed in my head, "Whether together or apart you must finish or perish while trying."

I stumbled through the rest of the cave alone and scared out of my wits. Tears blurred my vision constantly and I gasped as I rounded a second corner that led into the same room I'd been in before. I was running in circles. By the Eight's grace I reached the circlet and returned, but not without taking my own personal toll. The vision of R'Vasha's bloodied figure plastered across my memory forever and the fear of darkness would forever haunt me.

I immerged from the cave silently, stumbling as I went and the crowd erupted with applause, waiting for R'Vasha to appear as well. He never did. I simply stood there, watching the crowd grow steadily silent as I shook my head and walked forward. The high priest stared at me as I limped my way up the steps to his podium and I held out the golden circlet to him. He took it and handed me my talons immediately without any further words. I took his place behind the podium and held up the two black, curved earrings.

"These talons do not represent my success today, but R'Vasha's sacrifice", I held up the pair of earrings for the crowd to see and put them in my ears. "He died for me…" I whispered to myself. R'Vasha's family came forward as I descended the step. His older brother looked hurt and confused and his father pulled me aside and asked where his body was. I answered numbly and watched as a search party entered the cave to retrieve his body. I stood still, staring into the black entrance, wondering why the Eight chose me to live and not R'Vasha. He deserved these Talons more than I did. The crowd of Khajiits simply stared as I walked back to my tent and there I succumbed to my tears again. My family came to greet me soon after. My sister's eyes were brimming with tears, my father retained the same stern expression, but underneath his eyes read pain and sorrow. My mother seemed only concerned for my well-being, which she knew was now sent to Oblivion. Sweet, young Inerri was asleep in my father's arms still and I gazed at her innocence, wishing I could wear that expression as well. None of them spoke, they simply picked me up off the floor and led me back home. My father held me in his arms obviously proud of his daughter, but more importantly, grieving the loss of a great Khajiit as well.

His death haunted me constantly.

The carriage rattled up the stone streets to Windhelm's entrance and I stared at the great, wooden doors that lead into the city. It had taken two days and almost two nights to travel to the city. The sun was peeking over the horizon when I arrived and I hopped out of the carriage immediately, wasting no time getting into the city and performing my job.

I snuck into house after house, stealing item after item and storing it into my bag. When I reached five hundred septims, I made my way to the inn near the entrance of the city, Candlehearth Inn.

I walked inside and was immediately stunned by the loud and boisterous noise that the Bard was singing. It was something about taking down the Imperials and all of the men and women who sitting in the bar were singing in loud and drunken voices. A smile spread across my face immediately and I ordered a bottle of fire-brandy and downed it, singing along as well even though I had no idea what the words were. I threw my head back and laughed with strangers for what felt like hours, but could have easily been minutes. My track of time was out the window and I was glad to be away from Riften. The innkeeper approached me and smiled, raising her glass in a toast and taking a seat next to me.

"New in town, eh?" She asked, taking another sip. I smiled and nodded.

"What gave me away?"

"You've got that unblooded air about you", I nodded even though I had no idea what she meant by that. "Aye, Brendol. Have you heard anything from that Aretino place? Last I heard, the young fool, Aventus…was it Aventus? I don't know. Anyway, he was performing the Black Sacrament," She scoffed at the young boy's obvious stupidity.

"The Black Sacrament?" I piped up. The innkeeper nodded and turned towards me.

"You know, the Dark Brotherhood. It's their call…Sweet Mother, Sweet mother send your child unto me. All that mess", she waved her hand and grabbed another bottle from underneath the counter, uncapping on for me and herself.

"I've heard of them…" I mumbled. "The Aretino place?"

"Yeah, the young boy's mother passed away and he was sent to an orphanage in Riften. Supposedly, he ran away and came back here. Now he's calling for the Dark Brotherhood. He's a crazy lad…" I stared at her with wide eyes and smiled, thinking it was now a good time to change the subject. This boy…Aventus Aretino sparked my immediate interest. The Dark Brotherhood was what he needed? Well, perhaps, his wishes may be answered.

"Can I rent a room?" She sighed as I handed her the ten coins and she led me to my room. I put my stuff down and locked it into the chest immediately.

I opened the window and looked down at the ten-foot drop below and smiled. Easy. I hopped down and looked to my left and right, honestly not sure which way to go. Windhelm was an old city and the streets were covered in grime and dirty snow. It was dark and dank, in comparison to the hold of Whiterun where the streets were well swept and everything looked clean and hospitable. Windhelm was just the opposite. I walked past the main entrance casually and turned left. Another row of houses lay before me and one caught my eye. The doors were large and wooden with a huge door knocker on the front. I walked up to it and smirked at the eyes of a gargoyle that stared back at me. It had a large brass ring in its mouth and it looked anything but menacing. A brass plate above the door read _Aretino_ and I knew it was the right place. I hit the door knocker against the door three times. No response. I tried pushing it, but it was locked. I bent down low and surveyed the area. No one was in sight. I pulled out a lockpick and twisted it deftly until I heard a soft click and pushed the door open.

A large staircase lay in front of me and I ascended the steps quickly, turning right and finding myself in front of a young boy, chanting in front of a circle of candles. Two bloodied bones sat in a pile and the young boy had a linen cloth wrapped around his hand, most likely from slicing himself in the hand to provide the blood for the ritual.

"Huh?" The boy turned around and a broad smile spread across his fat cheeks. "You've come! I knew you would! The Black Sacrament worked! You're from the Dark Brotherhood and you've answered my prayers. Oh, thank you Sweet Nightmother", he gushed to me taking my hand and jumping up and down. He seemed oddly peppy for a kid that just performed an ancient ritual that was frowned upon by most of society.

"Yes…" I answer him, giving him a quizzical look. So he's "called" an agent of the Dark Brotherhood. He must think I'm…

"I need someone to be…taken care of", his boyish smile turned into a wicked smirk.

"Who, child?" I asked, in a deeper voice than I normally spoke. This could be entertaining…

"Grelod the Kind…well she isn't kind at all. She owns the orphanage in Riften", he answered. Not Riften.

"Why do you want her dead?"

"I was sent to her orphanage when my mother…she-she passed away. And Grelod is a terrible Keeper. She deserves death. Kill her, please", I looked at him and smiled, playing the part perfectly.

"Consider it done, Master Aventus", I turned on my heel and fled down the stairs, adrenaline coursing through my veins. This boy seemed to think I was part of the Dark Brotherhood and now I was going to carry out a job for him AND receive pay. How lovely. I crept from the house under the torchlight and made my way back toward the inn, already deciding that I would leave for Riften first thing in the morning; partly because I was excited to perform this job as an agent of the Nightmother and partly because I was already starting to hate Windhelm. The city was dark and decrepit; disgusting. I walked into the inn past the bellowing drunkards to my room, falling into bed and sighing contentedly. The noise from downstairs lulled me to sleep and I dreamed of nothing. I felt peaceful and awoke refreshened the next day. It'd been a long time since I felt that.

I packed my bags quickly and dashed toward the exit of the city, making it to the carriage just as the driver pulled the reins taut.

"Wait!" I called to him. He whipped around in his seat to face me and smiled.

"The generous one…" He called to me. I swung myself onto the carriage and handed him another hundred gold septims.

"I don't care where you were going before, but please take me back to Riften", I asked of him, completely breathless. A smile spread across his lips and he turned around in his seat, whipping the reins and the carriage clattered forward.

Another two day's journey lay ahead of me, but I didn't think of R'Vasha or J. I'd already decided that J was someone I wanted to avoid now. Seeing him would only remind me of the moment he hurt me and I wanted anything but to be reminded of the memory of that. We travelled quickly and efficiently, making better time than three days before. I'd been gone for six days total and we arrived in Riften just as the sun was setting. I wasted no timing weaving my way through the city until I approached a very run down, wooden building. A sign across the front read _Honorhall Orphanage_. I ducked low to the ground and glanced around to ensure that I was unseen and I pushed the doors open effortlessly. I walked into the building and two broad rooms were to my right and left. In front of me was a flight of stairs that led up to what I could assume was more beds, but Grelod was on the ground floor in her own. I crept over to her silently and pulled out a dagger, holding it above her throat and judging on just how to kill her. I drove the dagger through her throat and twisted counter clockwise, cracking her trachea. She made long, struggled wheezes and stared up at me with bulging eyes as she suffocated in front of me.

"Goodbye, Grelod", I whispered, turning tail and heading outside of the orphanage. I snuck around back and made my way towards the secret entrance of the Cistern and dove to the side quickly avoiding a fellow guild member as he pushed the button and descended the steps. It was only Rune and he hadn't seen me. I glanced down at the entrance as it closed and sighed. J was down there…I was sure of it. Just then a fear gripped me. I didn't want to see him. I couldn't face him. Doubt filled my mind and I thought of how I'd spoken to him: I used words that I would only use to describe Molag Bal in all his hideous power. I called him unfeeling, which was true in his attitude towards me, but he'd lost his entire family and I hadn't been able to shut my mouth when I interrogated him. I felt awful for what I'd said and I was ashamed to see him. I went back through the alley that led to the secret entrance and into the Bee and Barb. Keerava gave me a warm smile and offered a free room to me and I took it, while secretly stashing ten coins in her pocket when she wasn't looking. I couldn't handle facing J tonight. Tomorrow morning I would see him.


End file.
